Beside the point?

Today we visited Stabl Antar, an illegal/unplanned "town" of about 5,000 where people live without running water or other basic infrastruture.

We drove for a good 20 minutes on streets which hardly existed past children that waved and peered into the windows of our air conditioned van with yellow seat covers reading, 'welcome.' If we had encountered another vehicle driving opposite us it would have been tricky manuvering, but other than a donkey or two, we seemed to be the lone vehicles braving the roads.

I saw a pack of, I think, goats standing in rubbish, which was not surprising considering garbage was not scattered everywhere. Lots of men were cutting wood in small dusty shops and fruit and vegtables lay out for sale under a bridge.

Our destination was a family owned and operated glass blowing shop partnering with the non governmental organization Sohbet Kheir. The plan is for us to help them build a website to market their products. There was also talk of us collecting garbage, with Sullivan objected to.

When the vans stopped we piled out and were directed into a small clean room where two men were paining glass figurines laid out on a table. We were offered cold sodas, which Sullivan told us to take, and encouraged to ask questions to the men, which Sullivan and Mary translated.

The scene was a shock. We could have been anywhere. The shop was clean, albeit small, the men were dressed in typical clothes and fully focused on their work. Nothing on the inside gave away our destination deep inside the poorest area I had ever encountered.



Across the narrow hallway another man sat on a stool creating the glass pieces painted in the room before. He would start with a tube of glass alternately holding in a spout of fire and shaping it with tools. After making a small teapot, he asked Grace, Sullivan's daughter, to spell her name. He deftly inscribed it on a perfume bottle he blew and welded before our eyes. It was complete magic to me.

Who were these people? How had they learned to shape and paint glass? Where were they selling these delicate pieces? Sullivan said it was the first day they were painting the glass; he and others had suggested it when visiting in January. I longed to speak Arabic…I realized how little we knew...It was the most foriegn I've felt since being here.

So the title of this blog...I picked this trip largely for the service learning component. I wanted to jump in and help; get to know Egyptian society by meeting people and contributing. I thought the langauge barriar would be the biggest challenge; it's just the begining.

As we were driving through, one of the guys said something about he'd rather walk in a violent Philaldelphia slum then Stabl Antar. The comment annoyed me. The dirt, poverty and stares didn't bother me and I know I wouldn't be touched. What do you think Mary? I asked.

You can't just walk around here, she said. It's a small community, they all know each other. We're invading. Wait what! Her criticism caught me off guard.

Our meeting with on Monday with Yasmeen and Yousef (sp?) the two attempting to organize our service projects touched upon similiar issues. We sat in a classroom at AUC and they gave a powerpoint presentation about the service projects they're arranging for us. At one point this question came up. "Did these people ask us to pick up garbage and create websites or was this your i.e. the NGOs idea?"
Yasmeen circled the question.

Yesterday a group visited a carpet factory where we are supposed to help. Apparently all they wanted to do was sell us carpets...

However comfortable I may feel, however much I want to help, whatever skills I can offer is only a small part of the picture.

I'm starting to realize how much I don't know. How different it really is here. It's easy to forget. A lot of places we have gone people speak English to us, especially around Zamalek and touristy places like Aswan and Luxor. Brittany Spears is probably the music I've heard most in restaurants.

This pic is actually from Aswan. We couldn't take any today in Stabl Antar.

Today at Stabl Antar the guys could play soccer with the boys, us girls Sullivan suggested, could hold hands and talk about clothes with the other women...ouch...cultural shock anyone?

And take last night. We went out to dinner in Mohandaseen (sp?) a neighborhood in Cairo right across the bridge from Zamalek. Three of us decided to walk home. It was around 10:30. Walking down from the bridge we saw people our age chillin' below. Oooh what's that! I said excited to stumble upon a local hangout. As we got closer we realized it was a mosque. "Let's stay and party at the mosque, I joked. As we walked away I realized what a strange, yet true thing that was.

The mosque is a whole social world and dynamic we can't break into. People spend hours a day praying. Streets filled with green mats because the mosque are overflowing is a common sight.

I was almost dissapointed I didn't feel culturally shocked the first couple weeks. I wanted something extreme. To be shaken....I think the more I open my eyes the more I'll get my wish.

Mabye a reason we forget how different it really is sometimes....