On January 9, 2010 Sudan will vote on a referendum that could split the country North and South. The North, the seat of the government, has already threatened that the South will never be independent. The South, a land of different religion, language, and culture from the North has suffered long enough from the North and strives for independence. Sudan hosts the longest civil war in history. The location and motive of war has shifted throughout the decades; it currently resides in Darfur. Needless to say, this will not be a peaceful event whatever the outcome.
Many of the people I work with on a daily basis are from Sudan and have escaped its claws for a number of reasons. Torture, rape, destruction, death, they have out ran it. Now, they sit just a short plane ride away, in Cairo, in sickening anticipation of what awaits their family, friends and homes.
This morning in class at the training institute we addressed the pending referendum and the expectations of further forced migration. UNHCR- Egypt (United Nations High Commission for Refugees) is expecting about 20,000 new “migrants.” History shows it could easily be 2 million displaced. We are planning for a crisis. How do you plan for a crisis? How do you plan for death, destruction and desperation?
UNHCR in Egypt, Uganda, Kenya (all neighboring countries to Sudan) are meeting regularly to budget and plan for food, medical assistance, possible camp sites. Dr. Nancy, part of the negotiations, speaks very pragmatically about it. She’s been there done that before; it’s all part of disaster response. Yet we sit in a circle of chairs a mixture of Sudanese, Eritreans, Ethiopians, Iraqis, Somalis and I…they have all been through this before personally. You can tell hearts are beginning to beat faster as people start to shift in their chairs; rotating between twisting their hands or sitting on them. Feet start to cross and uncross, repeatedly. Then hands go to eyes and heads as the anticipation overflows into tears. Of the 22 trainees, 4 still have family in South Sudan, 3-4 others are from neighboring areas of Nuba Mountains or Darfur. What’s going to happen to their families? Can they get out in time? Many of the team members here do not have the proper documents to go and help, even to the border, thus they must sit and watch…
The heart of psychosocial work is realizing people’s basic needs and that people are intrinsically very pragmatic. The conversation shifts from what options might be to what can we do and how should we prepare…it’s a heavy morning. It’s going to be a tense next few months.
On a similar note, I just found out that my darling pal Lucy, with whom I shared life in Senegal (and can be seen in previous blogs) will be stationed at the heart of the vote where the country divides North and South. After Senegal, she took a post with the World Food Project to provide humanitarian assistance through emergency food delivery in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). She has since climbed to be base manager and recently was given the “opportunity” to serve in Sudan for the referendum. Yes, this sounds crazy to many of you however, these people will need food and she has been called to help deliver it. She and they will need your thoughts and prayers.
Overall, I don’t know what to say except that humanity can be disgustingly greedy and achingly inhumane. I am sickened by the fact that we are preparing for a man made disaster. On the other hand, collections of good hearts will struggle through the ugly to reinstall whatever humanity we can. Even if you’re not called to be part of the direct action, please pray and/or send good energies to Sudan and those serving in and around it during the next few months. Truly, it doesn’t matter if you’re Muslim, Christian, black or white…no human deserves this.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
whole lot of chicken going on....
Due to health concerns that exploded last spring this summer I decided to transition to a gluten free, lactose free life style. If I thought the dietary transition was a bit tricky in the States, then here in Egypt it could be a part time job. The life of a full time student and full time volunteer barely leaves time to cook however my digestive track insists that I eat “special- not-found-on the street” food thus I must essentially cook everything I eat. It’s a lot of time.
This past week I tried a new curry-honey-mustard baked chicken recipe. The recipe calls for a whole chicken and whole chickens are readily available in the markets, so I decided to try one. One time, I helped our domestique in Senegal, prepare a whole chicken. I have never prepared a whole chicken by myself. If you know me and my phobia of blood, bodies and everything associated with raw fleshy things you are correct to ask, what the heck was I gonna do with a chicken!
Got the chicken home—I chose the one that was already dead, feathered and cleaned. Ahamdililah! The recipe called to break/cut the chicken into smaller pieces. If the recipe wanted smaller pieces why did it originally call for a whole chicken? This is a recipe from the US- butchers regularly offer already cut up chicken…
I pinched the little leg- it bent like a real leg. I dropped it and my blood pressure followed suit. I turned around the pan—big whole in which I could see a backbone and blood. I turned the pan again- something that looked like a chicken’s anus. I began to prepare the marinade as the naked chicken sat on my counter.
After mixing the mustard and honey, I mustard up (yes, pun intended) the courage to snap off the back legs. I quickly washed my hands and fled the kitchen to catch my breath again. My head was spinning.
My guest was to arrive in 40 min. The chicken required 90 min to cook and in our nasty Cairen oven that means 2 hours and the naked chicken anus was still pointing my way. I called my friend for support and advice. She had none but told me to go buy already cut breasts. No. I debated calling my Grandma—but really, she’s in the States, she can’t break this chicken. I debated if could I just throw the whole bird in the pan and cook it? I mean that what they do in the movies for Thanksgiving. Then walked in my roommate! Thank God, for roommates!
About 4 min, a few grunts and sawing like sounds later, the chicken was in pieces in the pan. It turned out delicious! And of course I played the, “you don’t understand the sacrifice I went to w/ this dinner”…and he did the dishes! :)
This past week I tried a new curry-honey-mustard baked chicken recipe. The recipe calls for a whole chicken and whole chickens are readily available in the markets, so I decided to try one. One time, I helped our domestique in Senegal, prepare a whole chicken. I have never prepared a whole chicken by myself. If you know me and my phobia of blood, bodies and everything associated with raw fleshy things you are correct to ask, what the heck was I gonna do with a chicken!
Got the chicken home—I chose the one that was already dead, feathered and cleaned. Ahamdililah! The recipe called to break/cut the chicken into smaller pieces. If the recipe wanted smaller pieces why did it originally call for a whole chicken? This is a recipe from the US- butchers regularly offer already cut up chicken…
I pinched the little leg- it bent like a real leg. I dropped it and my blood pressure followed suit. I turned around the pan—big whole in which I could see a backbone and blood. I turned the pan again- something that looked like a chicken’s anus. I began to prepare the marinade as the naked chicken sat on my counter.
After mixing the mustard and honey, I mustard up (yes, pun intended) the courage to snap off the back legs. I quickly washed my hands and fled the kitchen to catch my breath again. My head was spinning.
My guest was to arrive in 40 min. The chicken required 90 min to cook and in our nasty Cairen oven that means 2 hours and the naked chicken anus was still pointing my way. I called my friend for support and advice. She had none but told me to go buy already cut breasts. No. I debated calling my Grandma—but really, she’s in the States, she can’t break this chicken. I debated if could I just throw the whole bird in the pan and cook it? I mean that what they do in the movies for Thanksgiving. Then walked in my roommate! Thank God, for roommates!
About 4 min, a few grunts and sawing like sounds later, the chicken was in pieces in the pan. It turned out delicious! And of course I played the, “you don’t understand the sacrifice I went to w/ this dinner”…and he did the dishes! :)
Monday, October 25, 2010
happy working in Cairo!
In school, I debate theoretical arguments such as the distinction between "inhumane and degrading treatment" v. "torture" and I read case studies about the gross lack of medical services available to refugees in Cairo. I walk the streets of Cairo harassed by macho comments, covered with dirt and sweat. I often ask myself, what am I doing here and why am I doing it here specifically. Today a few of collegues and I visited numerous non-governmental organizations (NGOs), community based organizations (CBOs), and schools in a predominatly poor and Sudanese area of town (one might say, the ghetto). These visits answered those questions and renewed my purpose and energy in Cairo.
The objective of the visits was to observe the organizations where the new psychosocial candidates will be hosted and what are there current activities, in addition to meeting other staff and board members of the organizations. Yet amongst the meetings, we walked through the streets, shook hands of random people, drank tea, avoided goats, horses, donkeys, dogs, cats and their remains. We saw real life.
While it’s great to understand the theories and case studies, for me, there is nothing more gratifying than working in communities, walking the streets and seeing/feeling the daily life of the people with whom I work. Today I got to see a side of Cairo that I have never seen. Granted it was a holiday thus, I’m not sure it will be the same the next time I return however it was fun to see daily life on a holiday!
One aspect of the visits that struck me was the discussion surrounding financial affairs. Some of the organizations survived essentially by volunteer staff, others sat around saying there was no funding thus no programming and others had international contacts that helped to secure external funding. One lady in particular who runs a nursery for babies and infants stuck in my mind. She talked in a very matter-of-fact way; she recognized the less than desirable conditions of the organization and families that frequent it, yet she spoke with such conviction and passion that re-instilled my faith that people are intrinsically good. She saw a need in her community and she does something about it, piece by piece, day-by-day, from the goodness of their heart, without renumeration and often at great expense, for the betterment of the community.
Then there were the ones that sat around waiting for funding. Frankly,they annoyed me and made me just want to push past and say, “excuse me, please get out of the way for people that are actually doing something!” It also reconfirmed how many of the daily activities and programs are initiated and maintained by women. Yes, we saw a lot of men at the heads of organizations and some were very effective and influential yet overall, I still have this feeling that women are the real movers and shakers.
During the site visits I also thought of Greg Mortenson’s comments in his book “Three Cups of Tea” when he speaks about how many cups of tea one must consume to get anything done. Sadly enough, as I’ve noticed in other developing countries, tea is frequently replaced by glass bottles of sugary soda. Do they think that all foreigners drink lots of soda? I can’t imagine it a question of access or price as tea is so easily available in Egypt. But I brushed my teeth three times when I arrived home.
Today, while a bit tired and dirty, I come home renewed. Last year I volunteered at the Refugee Legal Aid Project and lived in that community of people: staff, volunteers and clients. Today made me realize that 1) this year, I had been missing that sense of community and 2) that I where I might not get to work intimately with just one organization this year, it will be fun to mixed into a bunch of them!
The objective of the visits was to observe the organizations where the new psychosocial candidates will be hosted and what are there current activities, in addition to meeting other staff and board members of the organizations. Yet amongst the meetings, we walked through the streets, shook hands of random people, drank tea, avoided goats, horses, donkeys, dogs, cats and their remains. We saw real life.
While it’s great to understand the theories and case studies, for me, there is nothing more gratifying than working in communities, walking the streets and seeing/feeling the daily life of the people with whom I work. Today I got to see a side of Cairo that I have never seen. Granted it was a holiday thus, I’m not sure it will be the same the next time I return however it was fun to see daily life on a holiday!
One aspect of the visits that struck me was the discussion surrounding financial affairs. Some of the organizations survived essentially by volunteer staff, others sat around saying there was no funding thus no programming and others had international contacts that helped to secure external funding. One lady in particular who runs a nursery for babies and infants stuck in my mind. She talked in a very matter-of-fact way; she recognized the less than desirable conditions of the organization and families that frequent it, yet she spoke with such conviction and passion that re-instilled my faith that people are intrinsically good. She saw a need in her community and she does something about it, piece by piece, day-by-day, from the goodness of their heart, without renumeration and often at great expense, for the betterment of the community.
Then there were the ones that sat around waiting for funding. Frankly,they annoyed me and made me just want to push past and say, “excuse me, please get out of the way for people that are actually doing something!” It also reconfirmed how many of the daily activities and programs are initiated and maintained by women. Yes, we saw a lot of men at the heads of organizations and some were very effective and influential yet overall, I still have this feeling that women are the real movers and shakers.
During the site visits I also thought of Greg Mortenson’s comments in his book “Three Cups of Tea” when he speaks about how many cups of tea one must consume to get anything done. Sadly enough, as I’ve noticed in other developing countries, tea is frequently replaced by glass bottles of sugary soda. Do they think that all foreigners drink lots of soda? I can’t imagine it a question of access or price as tea is so easily available in Egypt. But I brushed my teeth three times when I arrived home.
Today, while a bit tired and dirty, I come home renewed. Last year I volunteered at the Refugee Legal Aid Project and lived in that community of people: staff, volunteers and clients. Today made me realize that 1) this year, I had been missing that sense of community and 2) that I where I might not get to work intimately with just one organization this year, it will be fun to mixed into a bunch of them!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
round two....
Second year of graduate school includes my practicum/internship/field component. Last year I independently volunteered at the refugee clinic providing legal services for refugees seeking resettlement, this year I will gain field experience for my secondary diploma in Psycho-social interventions in forced migration studies.
My diploma program (distinct from my MA in International Human Rights Law) is an intimate program of about 10 people and a very involved director, Dr. Nancy. It’s like a family that feeds off of and supports each others passions to work with and assist marginalized populations create and access community and social systems. This year this part of my Cairo family includes five other females: Americans, Egyptians, Europeans and Africans from all walks of life and Dr. Nancy, a psychologist who works and consults in emergency and conflict situations all over the world.
In such an intimate program Dr. Nancy got to know each one of us and our strengths, goals and weaknesses. In this way, we were able to dialogue and find individual field location that met all of the above needs. Recognizing my motivating and management skills, I will work directly, under the supervision of Dr. Nancy, in developing the Psycho-Social Training Institute (PSTIC) in Cairo. Dr. Nancy trained and graduated the first class of psycho-social workers this past May and in doing so grew the presence and need of psycho-social workers in Cairo. This year we will take on a new class of psychosocial workers, mostly refugee community leaders from Ethiopia, Sudan, Eritrea, and Somalia, In addition we continue to grow our networks in Cairo and with international organizations such as the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the International Office of Migration (IOM), Catholic Relief Services (CRS), and the Red Cross, to name a few.
Unlike some of my colleagues who were placed in established agencies as caseworkers, my responsibilities, along with my two wonderful partners Eklilu, Eritrean and Ali, Somalian, these past few weeks was to get things going: find office space, make budgets for office furniture, find painters, help coordinate interviews of perspective students and participate in the interview process. Quite different from last year at the refugee clinic, with Dr. Nancy we have a budget! and I won’t have to consume a whole weekend painting the office with my own volunteer team!!
What I’m most excited for however, is Dr. Nancy’s open-mindedness. This means that after I expressed that I’m interested in disability law and rights she told me that she would find funding for me to start a program for persons’ with disabilities in the refugee community! A week later, I’m now sitting in a waiting room for an appointment with three of the top (and most politically powerful) doctors for refugees in Cairo and later this week I will meet with two other international organizations to start my program assessment!
Needless to say I’m excited! I am contracted to approximately 30hrs a week for the practicum; however lives in crises rarely adhere to time schedules. So, this semester I’ll balance these new opportunities with three classes: Human Rights in Africa, Human Rights in the European System and a Psycho-social “problems” course. And for a bit more fun on the side I have 1 8-year old violin student who will only stand during his lesson if I get him a soda before class, and three English students looking to improve their conversation skills- I get paid to talk! Life is moving along!
My diploma program (distinct from my MA in International Human Rights Law) is an intimate program of about 10 people and a very involved director, Dr. Nancy. It’s like a family that feeds off of and supports each others passions to work with and assist marginalized populations create and access community and social systems. This year this part of my Cairo family includes five other females: Americans, Egyptians, Europeans and Africans from all walks of life and Dr. Nancy, a psychologist who works and consults in emergency and conflict situations all over the world.
In such an intimate program Dr. Nancy got to know each one of us and our strengths, goals and weaknesses. In this way, we were able to dialogue and find individual field location that met all of the above needs. Recognizing my motivating and management skills, I will work directly, under the supervision of Dr. Nancy, in developing the Psycho-Social Training Institute (PSTIC) in Cairo. Dr. Nancy trained and graduated the first class of psycho-social workers this past May and in doing so grew the presence and need of psycho-social workers in Cairo. This year we will take on a new class of psychosocial workers, mostly refugee community leaders from Ethiopia, Sudan, Eritrea, and Somalia, In addition we continue to grow our networks in Cairo and with international organizations such as the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the International Office of Migration (IOM), Catholic Relief Services (CRS), and the Red Cross, to name a few.
Unlike some of my colleagues who were placed in established agencies as caseworkers, my responsibilities, along with my two wonderful partners Eklilu, Eritrean and Ali, Somalian, these past few weeks was to get things going: find office space, make budgets for office furniture, find painters, help coordinate interviews of perspective students and participate in the interview process. Quite different from last year at the refugee clinic, with Dr. Nancy we have a budget! and I won’t have to consume a whole weekend painting the office with my own volunteer team!!
What I’m most excited for however, is Dr. Nancy’s open-mindedness. This means that after I expressed that I’m interested in disability law and rights she told me that she would find funding for me to start a program for persons’ with disabilities in the refugee community! A week later, I’m now sitting in a waiting room for an appointment with three of the top (and most politically powerful) doctors for refugees in Cairo and later this week I will meet with two other international organizations to start my program assessment!
Needless to say I’m excited! I am contracted to approximately 30hrs a week for the practicum; however lives in crises rarely adhere to time schedules. So, this semester I’ll balance these new opportunities with three classes: Human Rights in Africa, Human Rights in the European System and a Psycho-social “problems” course. And for a bit more fun on the side I have 1 8-year old violin student who will only stand during his lesson if I get him a soda before class, and three English students looking to improve their conversation skills- I get paid to talk! Life is moving along!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
First week back.
On my way back to Cairo I realized that this was the first time I was going back to live in a country. I have visited a few of the other countries where I have resided but I have not yet gone back to live in one. This definitely has its advantages.
This time, I didn’t have to learn my Arabic numbers to walk through foreign streets to find a “home” but I had an apartment waiting for me. I have friends excited about my return. I know prices and where is the grocery store. I have a phone with local numbers. I know how to cross the street. I know how to tell off a rude man on the street. I know what to wear—or more importantly, what not to wear. It was almost a déjà vu moment; I quickly felt at ease.
The transition was ideal! Cairo, time change, transition in general, can be overwhelming. Last school year ended in an unhealthy way and four days after my return to the States I was working full time researching national criminal and immigration issues at a law firm in Chicago. I was super blessed to have such a great job and the support of friends and family all summer however to go right back to school without a slight mental break could have been disastrous! So, with a good week before school started, a good friend and I decided to spend some time on the Mediterranean.
We did nothing but sleep, eat and chit-chat for SIX whole days! Really, I felt spoiled! The polluted fog of Cairo was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t have to be covered but wore sundresses or just my bikini the whole week…we couldn’t escape Ramadan however, so seaside alcoholic beverages were a no go…either way we returned sincerely excited to be in Cairo with healthy, new energy and ready to start a new school year!
This time, I didn’t have to learn my Arabic numbers to walk through foreign streets to find a “home” but I had an apartment waiting for me. I have friends excited about my return. I know prices and where is the grocery store. I have a phone with local numbers. I know how to cross the street. I know how to tell off a rude man on the street. I know what to wear—or more importantly, what not to wear. It was almost a déjà vu moment; I quickly felt at ease.
The transition was ideal! Cairo, time change, transition in general, can be overwhelming. Last school year ended in an unhealthy way and four days after my return to the States I was working full time researching national criminal and immigration issues at a law firm in Chicago. I was super blessed to have such a great job and the support of friends and family all summer however to go right back to school without a slight mental break could have been disastrous! So, with a good week before school started, a good friend and I decided to spend some time on the Mediterranean.
We did nothing but sleep, eat and chit-chat for SIX whole days! Really, I felt spoiled! The polluted fog of Cairo was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t have to be covered but wore sundresses or just my bikini the whole week…we couldn’t escape Ramadan however, so seaside alcoholic beverages were a no go…either way we returned sincerely excited to be in Cairo with healthy, new energy and ready to start a new school year!
Arrival: Round Two
I would be a liar if I denied that my heart sank upon arrival in Cairo. Blue skies were suddenly replaced by haze of pollution and heat. Whereas Paris was a bustle of organized and efficient smiling men and women, the Cairo airport hosted only clusters of worn-out looking men who simply stared. My first thought: of all the places in the world, why am I here?
I quickly stifled that thought because I am here. I chose to be here. I’m here for a reason (even if it’s not always clear.) Life is what we make of it. I learned a lot last year and I have another opportunity to avoid the same mistakes and to embrace new opportunities. I am the only one who can control my reactions and my actions—its gonna be a great year!
I quickly stifled that thought because I am here. I chose to be here. I’m here for a reason (even if it’s not always clear.) Life is what we make of it. I learned a lot last year and I have another opportunity to avoid the same mistakes and to embrace new opportunities. I am the only one who can control my reactions and my actions—its gonna be a great year!
French
“Would you care for red wine, white wine, Champaign or water?” is the way I started my trip back to Cairo. Air France is the way to go! (I chose red wine for the first leg of the journey and Champaign for the connecting flight.) While some may think that alcohol is bad for jet leg I think going to a Muslim country during Ramadan after a summer of great wine is worse!
Chicago to Paris is an easy flight- if for no other reason than the anticipation of arriving in Paris!! I arrived around 8am Paris time, 1am Chicago time and I had five hours until my next flight. I had to act fast to make the most of my time.
I relatively quickly passed through Customs— the first stamp in my renewed passport! I found the Centre de Tourisme and quickly tried my French. The lady kindly responded in English— ouch. She explained the transportation options that arrive in the city center and return to the airport. Then with a smile and a wink also quickly informed me that there was bus that the locals used-- for half price!-- if I was willing to walk a few blocks. Who wouldn’t love to walk a few blocks through Paris!
At that moment I caught myself in a giggle: I could have easily taken about an hour before leaving to plan out- or look at a map of the windy city—to know how to best spend these hours but of course, I didn’t. So, I jumped on the random bus that a random man said would pass by le Avenue des Champs-Élysées and headed into Paris with an only-American-would-carry-ridiculously-stuffed “purse” and carry-on suitcase. Only a moment of anxiety crossed ma tete that I have to make it back from downtown, through security and find my gate which could be in a totally different terminal in less than four hours. Pourquoi pas?!
The supposedly 45 min ride took an hour ten minutes so I closely kept track of time for my return bus. While I couldn’t possibly skip up cobblestone, windy streets w/ my luggage there must have been at least a twinkle in my eye. Really, there is nothing like exploring and enjoying a foreign city—by yourself! Such liberty!
I took a few pics of the Arc de Triomphe before heading back down the labrynth of streets. In the morning, the streets were just stretching awake however the markets were standing ready: truly, one of my favorite places in the world— a small, outdoor market on the streets of Paris. In quite an “Eat, Pray, Love” fashion I smelled every flower that I passed and bought an overly expensive carton of raspberries! I spoke French with the smiley lady in the bakery. I even squealed an “ou la la” as I sidestepped away from the man pushing a cart with stinky cheese! My 53 minutes of freedom in Paris was bliss!
Upon return to the airport I quickly found the terminal and passed through security—a tall, black French speaking man! And finally, as I waited in the terminal for my Champaign filled flight, I gave myself a French manicure!
Chicago to Paris is an easy flight- if for no other reason than the anticipation of arriving in Paris!! I arrived around 8am Paris time, 1am Chicago time and I had five hours until my next flight. I had to act fast to make the most of my time.
I relatively quickly passed through Customs— the first stamp in my renewed passport! I found the Centre de Tourisme and quickly tried my French. The lady kindly responded in English— ouch. She explained the transportation options that arrive in the city center and return to the airport. Then with a smile and a wink also quickly informed me that there was bus that the locals used-- for half price!-- if I was willing to walk a few blocks. Who wouldn’t love to walk a few blocks through Paris!
At that moment I caught myself in a giggle: I could have easily taken about an hour before leaving to plan out- or look at a map of the windy city—to know how to best spend these hours but of course, I didn’t. So, I jumped on the random bus that a random man said would pass by le Avenue des Champs-Élysées and headed into Paris with an only-American-would-carry-ridiculously-stuffed “purse” and carry-on suitcase. Only a moment of anxiety crossed ma tete that I have to make it back from downtown, through security and find my gate which could be in a totally different terminal in less than four hours. Pourquoi pas?!
The supposedly 45 min ride took an hour ten minutes so I closely kept track of time for my return bus. While I couldn’t possibly skip up cobblestone, windy streets w/ my luggage there must have been at least a twinkle in my eye. Really, there is nothing like exploring and enjoying a foreign city—by yourself! Such liberty!
I took a few pics of the Arc de Triomphe before heading back down the labrynth of streets. In the morning, the streets were just stretching awake however the markets were standing ready: truly, one of my favorite places in the world— a small, outdoor market on the streets of Paris. In quite an “Eat, Pray, Love” fashion I smelled every flower that I passed and bought an overly expensive carton of raspberries! I spoke French with the smiley lady in the bakery. I even squealed an “ou la la” as I sidestepped away from the man pushing a cart with stinky cheese! My 53 minutes of freedom in Paris was bliss!
Upon return to the airport I quickly found the terminal and passed through security—a tall, black French speaking man! And finally, as I waited in the terminal for my Champaign filled flight, I gave myself a French manicure!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
summer
This morning I woke up early to go on a run...outside....fresh air...in shorts...
This summer I'm working as a law clerk doing legal research at an immigration law firm in the Chicago loop. Really, an unexpected dream come true. Three brilliant female attorneys, four wonderful female legal assistants and me. Strong, driven, hard-working women making a world a difference for our immigrant clients and their families. No men needed. No questions asked.
As I rode "home" on the train I realized as I looked through the window into the next car-- there was a man squeezed up against a woman. No gendered cars. No one cared. No one stared.
I'm neither homesick nor very comfortable. The normal cultural adjustment phase has once again faded-- at least until I go back to Cairo in 2 months. I'm just noticing and appreciating the differences.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Grad school realization
So you know you're in grad school in a foreign country when access to research involves reading a book in Italian to scour the footnotes to find references to sources in French and really this is only to put off the primary sources that are only in Arabic thus only accessible with a translator...at least I get to write in English!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
choosing of the neediest.
For a number of reasons, logical and reactionary, since the start of the new year we opened our services at RLAP to basically all refugees including Sudanese, Eritrean, and Ethiopian. These communities in particular face extremely hard luck at the UNHCR in Egypt. Only the most extreme cases are even considered for resettlement despite legal grounds for a case.
When word got out to the various refugee communities the office was literally bombarded by possible clients. A coupe of random days during a two week period in January, we had to shut the office doors and call in extra security to fend off literally hundreds of Sudanese begging to have their cases heard. A window of opportunity opened but a wall was needed.
I do not believe that the office appropriately estimated the number of people waiting to be heard and served. In response to the floods, a wonderful intern created a basic paper intake form. 4000 forms came back the office within a matter of days. The resourcefulness of these communities once again showed itself as there are basically three different handwriting sample for each community and each story contains similar phrasing. Not everyone knows how to write and those that do had a lot of work to do!
This week we started to go through the forms- sort of a triage system. Who might have a case? Who has suffered but just not enough? Who has a priority case?. The process itself is a psycho-social study. The new interns in the office, obviously struggle the most as we hear, “Oh my gosh they’ve all been raped. They’ve all lost family…I feel soo bad.” I started to explain to a new intern that its normal and eventually she’ll start to “feel” who really has a case and (un)fortunately we start to harden up and it won’t affect you as much…I grab my stack of Eritrean applications and despite a few years of experience I too am bombarded with hopelessness.
I can breeze over the home country catastrophes…war, attacks, bombs, milita, rape, torture, family dying… but the continual persecution hits me… “my husband died, I’m alone with four children for the past 6 years, one is paralyzed from the bullet wound, I have no protection…” I reach the end of one particularly NOT compelling case and she writes, “Can someone please help me?” I freeze and show it to my colleague who simply hands it back with a shrug.
I feel it’s unfair. These people are given a chance to tell their stories. Paper cannot tell a story. Many of these cultures practice oral traditions, paper can’t capture emotions of a story. Many have security issues, thus with all of there personal and family information on the same page, they refuse to disclose their full story on paper. Many have been through numerous interviews where they have learned to give only the information they think We want to hear. Is this the best way to handle this situation? They try to transmit their desperation…how am I supposed to play “god” and decide who deserves a chance? What if the intern next to me read it, would she give someone a chance that I say has no real chance?
As a service provider I can understand limitations. Certain rules limit the amount of people that can resettle, quotas- or perhaps political influences, either way the UNHCR has (some argue inhumanly and injustly) limited the numbers of applications from these communities. I mean, how do you choose when almost all have been tortured, raped and lost family members? Who has the worst of the horrific stories? At the same time, there are legal grounds for resettlement and more importantly, they’re human. Doesn’t everybody deserve a chance? I’m starting to really think that I’m naïve to believe this.
Good things have come out of this. We have found numerous urgent situations that we will work to immediately service. These cases might have remained silent—or even died away—if we hadn’t opened our doors. I am also positive that through the information we have collected invaluable statistics will be available for analysis and hopefully policy change.
I’m not sure how to end this. It was a heavy day in the office. It’s going to be a delicate and arduous next few weeks. Aid is tough. Its one of those situations when you want to help—but its out of your control.
When word got out to the various refugee communities the office was literally bombarded by possible clients. A coupe of random days during a two week period in January, we had to shut the office doors and call in extra security to fend off literally hundreds of Sudanese begging to have their cases heard. A window of opportunity opened but a wall was needed.
I do not believe that the office appropriately estimated the number of people waiting to be heard and served. In response to the floods, a wonderful intern created a basic paper intake form. 4000 forms came back the office within a matter of days. The resourcefulness of these communities once again showed itself as there are basically three different handwriting sample for each community and each story contains similar phrasing. Not everyone knows how to write and those that do had a lot of work to do!
This week we started to go through the forms- sort of a triage system. Who might have a case? Who has suffered but just not enough? Who has a priority case?. The process itself is a psycho-social study. The new interns in the office, obviously struggle the most as we hear, “Oh my gosh they’ve all been raped. They’ve all lost family…I feel soo bad.” I started to explain to a new intern that its normal and eventually she’ll start to “feel” who really has a case and (un)fortunately we start to harden up and it won’t affect you as much…I grab my stack of Eritrean applications and despite a few years of experience I too am bombarded with hopelessness.
I can breeze over the home country catastrophes…war, attacks, bombs, milita, rape, torture, family dying… but the continual persecution hits me… “my husband died, I’m alone with four children for the past 6 years, one is paralyzed from the bullet wound, I have no protection…” I reach the end of one particularly NOT compelling case and she writes, “Can someone please help me?” I freeze and show it to my colleague who simply hands it back with a shrug.
I feel it’s unfair. These people are given a chance to tell their stories. Paper cannot tell a story. Many of these cultures practice oral traditions, paper can’t capture emotions of a story. Many have security issues, thus with all of there personal and family information on the same page, they refuse to disclose their full story on paper. Many have been through numerous interviews where they have learned to give only the information they think We want to hear. Is this the best way to handle this situation? They try to transmit their desperation…how am I supposed to play “god” and decide who deserves a chance? What if the intern next to me read it, would she give someone a chance that I say has no real chance?
As a service provider I can understand limitations. Certain rules limit the amount of people that can resettle, quotas- or perhaps political influences, either way the UNHCR has (some argue inhumanly and injustly) limited the numbers of applications from these communities. I mean, how do you choose when almost all have been tortured, raped and lost family members? Who has the worst of the horrific stories? At the same time, there are legal grounds for resettlement and more importantly, they’re human. Doesn’t everybody deserve a chance? I’m starting to really think that I’m naïve to believe this.
Good things have come out of this. We have found numerous urgent situations that we will work to immediately service. These cases might have remained silent—or even died away—if we hadn’t opened our doors. I am also positive that through the information we have collected invaluable statistics will be available for analysis and hopefully policy change.
I’m not sure how to end this. It was a heavy day in the office. It’s going to be a delicate and arduous next few weeks. Aid is tough. Its one of those situations when you want to help—but its out of your control.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
my quest to organize 2010!
I am the first to admit that I am completely dependent on my day planner. Yes, I'm even one of those people who when I'm sitting on public transportation and have nothing to do will "read" my day planner. I like organizing. I like planning. Little did I know, however, how particular I am about the format of my daily planner/agenda until I tried to find one in Cairo.
I like a portable planner, preferably one that can fit in different size purses, including the small ones. Of course, I need lots of room to write, including weekends... I ask my friend with a car to help me find one.#
Store #1: All planners are "Arabic" style. I can get used to opening it "backwards" (Arabic: write right to left, open books from the "back" cover). The week starts on Sunday because weekends here are Friday and Saturday. All days, months etc are in Arabic which would be good daily practice. However, one page per day is not an efficient use of space nor is it conducive to visualizing long term planning...sorry, try again.
Store #2: only wall calendars based on the Muslim calendar. They reminded me of Grandpa's Farm Bureau calendar...something to hang on the wall, tear off the page each day and it generally ends up a couple of weeks behind. Nope, try again.
Store #3: exactly what I was looking for but only 2009. That won't work.
Between store three and four, I start to feel a bit desperate. In exasperation, I tell my friend that I now understand why Egyptians are always late and don't ever plan anything! There are no planners! I start to ask my stereotypical culturally philosophical questions: "how would Egypt be different if Egyptians had planners? and were taught to use them? how do professionals keep track of appointments? etc..." My friend asks me why so many different types of planners exist and exclaims that all Americans are really OCD about time organization ("time is money!")
FINALLY, store #4-- I find a small, well organized-- tho I must compromise because it doesn't have a separate page for each month-- planner. I'll take it!
While I normally do not advocate for big box stores, this is one instance where I wish I had an Office Depot! I guess another cultural adjustment--- or something to be sure to add to my Christmas list from the States next year!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Happy Birthday BLOG!
So its almost one year to date since I started this blog. This time of year stirs the need for reflection and perhaps determining new goals, aspirations and desires for the year to come. I, thus, feel it appropriate to take a moment to do just that.
Christmas in Egypt
This is not the first year that I've spent Christmas abroad, without family and without snow but it was the first Christmas that I spent in a country that largely does not recognize the holiday. Cairo, as a metropolitan city, has a rather large expat community that demands a small Christmas market, nonetheless I think it would not have been difficult to pass through the 25th of December without special recognition. While the past few years in the States I have tried to deny the materialist side of Christmas this year I realized how much sentiment it adds to the holidays: no parades, no Christmas carols, no decorations in the streets, no "Merry Christmas" greetings... At the same time, it was a beautiful thing not to have think about Christmas shopping or what to wear to Christmas parties and all the stresses that come with the holidays! (If Christmas stresses you out you should consider celebrating in a Muslim country because then you only make it what you want it to be!)
With Lies in town it was a whirlwind of a week during which time we did our best to bring in the holiday cheer. While I cannot say it had a very Christmas-y feeling we had tons of fun and perhaps I should just consider it a 'different' way to celebrate.
Pict 1: our "family" Christmas dinner. My friends, foreigners and Egyptians, Christians and Muslims got together for a potluck dinner on the 25th. Being that it was the holidays and most of us were without family and tradition many of us splurged to make our favorite food. I finally found avocados and made guacamole! It was the fastest dish to disappear which only contributes to the "different" way to celebrate Christmas!
Picture 2: After "mid-night" mass- that was supposed to start at 11, but the choir started around 11:30 sang for 40 minutes and didn't really end until 2am-- we celebrated Jesus's b-day in the club! I celebrate my b-day in the club, why wouldn't Jesus! We even drank wine in the club bc ya know, Jesus turned water to wine! Happy Birthday JESUS!!
Picture 3: The Christmas choir at church. It truly was beautiful and was possibly the only time it REALLY felt like Christmas; no matter in what language the Choir sings "Silent Night" it can always bring a tear... One of my Muslim friends accompanied us for his first time in a church. I was once again able to say, "When you can bring this kind of music in a mosque, I will consider converting!..." I interpreted the readings for him that were in French and he interpreted the Homily in Arabic! love multi-lingual masses!
Picture 4: one of the last nights of finals week my two friends showed up at my door with a surprise Christmas tree! It might be a bit lopsided, but its real and brings a Christmas smell every time we walk in the door. Amanda and I took a small study break to decorate it and here she gave it appropriately gave it a garland turbin!
Like on Thanksgiving, my friends united to create our own "family." I once again feel blessed to have such great new friends and memories with them. At the same time, thanks to technology, I was able to share a bit of holiday spirit with close friends and family at home. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!! and a (belated) Merry Christmas to all!
SantaLies came to town!
My first visitor!!! Lies, my good friend and travel buddy who I met in Senegal, came to visit me over Christmas break! Lies finished her first semester of teaching, I finished my first semester of grad school.....watch out Egypt!Team shisha!!
The sphinx got some special visitors!!!
We went shopping in the market but when the male vendors got to be a bit too much decided to work on our bell-hops! Pourquoi pas?!
Of course time for cocktails on the beach!
Just like the good ol' days in Senegal, Mr. Lonely Planet proved once again priceless!
We also figured out that our bargaining skills were still pretty good as not only did we enjoy this deeelicious mango juice, but walked away with the mugs as souvenirs! Never hurts to ask-- w/ a big smile and a wink! :)
We also visited some mosques...
And of course, a trip to Egypt wouldn't be complete without camel rides at the pyramids! (Finally after 4+ months in Egypt, this was my first time to see the pyramids also!)
Doesn't it make you want to visit too??!?!!! :)
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