Care With Love: The Overview

Finally the much anticipated answer to the most asked question since last April: What are you gonna do in Egypt?? Well--for the last month I've been working on a power point presentation for the NGO I work for here in Cairo, Care With Love (El-Raiyeh Bilmahaba). In two weeks the organization will be celebrating its 10th anniversary for which they would like show a presentation marking its work here in Egypt. Its the lone pragmatic task assigned to me for this month, besides teaching English to the staff, for since the end September my work facilitator, Dr. Magda Iskander, has been out of town. As she left, she said to me, "Let this be a month of orientation for you, for when I return we can better discuss your role..." So this month I've been that strange foreigner lurking about in the backs of classrooms and around hospitals, attempting to communicate about CWL, taking pictures, and asking--sometimes two and three times--the Arabic names of many an object. I realized very quickly that I was to be granted my wish for cultural immersion: Dr. Magda is the lone English speaker in the organization. So I was to form a presentation about the history, the present work, and the forecast of an organization I knew very little about from a group of people who speak a different language:> Yet, believe it or not, it has been a wonderful month of much laughter and learning as the inner workings of a wonderful organization have slowly become evident to me. So, for this entry I thought I thought you all might like to hear a little about the place I work.

It all started when Dr. Magda's mother took a fall. She was taken to the hospital and treated for a broken hip, and after a couple weeks it was apparent that she no longer needed the a hospital's level of care, as others could use the bed much more than she could. Instead, a program of rehab and home health care was needed given her state of mobility and general lack of ability to perform everyday tasks in the home. Having studied and lived in America, Dr. Magda was well aware of the potential for HHC systems, which were then non-existent in Egypt, and in 1996 the vision for a caretaker's training program became a reality with the launching of CWL. Though intended primarily for the service of a growing elderly population in need of HHC (as the changing economics of Egypt in the 80's and 90's meant that economically families could no longer care for their elderly as members were working multiple jobs to make ends meet), CWL also provides such benefits as the opening of a new job market for young adults in a suffering economy, turning around the lives of unemployed and marginalized young adults sought by CWL to be trained (working with churches and other NGO's, CWL specifically seeks out those individuals in drastic need of opportunity), crossing the bridges between the many groups of people here in Egypt by opening dialogue during the training sessions (CWL trains both Sudanese and Egyptians, Muslims and Christians, and men and women), and re-asserting the critical worth of nurturing care rooted in love in Egyptian society (hospitals are grossly understaffed with nurses due to a general lack of respect for the caretaker and nursing professions).

It is these very cultural attitudes toward professions of care that necessitates the program to reach deeply into the minds and hearts of trainees. Beyond the 90-day curriculum of pragmatic skills and information, Dr. Magda has introduced into the program the concept of the "decision for love." Beyond the graduation requirements of proficiency in skills and knowledge of relevant information, each trainee must profess a dedication to a career of service grounded in love for fellow humanity regardless of potential classifications of those individuals. As we are now at the training center in the later stages of the three-month curriculum, its been amazing to watch as embarrassment and even anger at the necessity of particular procedures (like catheter cleansing and bedpan placement) has been transformed to joy in service for many trainees. It is the extremely conservative character of Egyptian society that has shrouded many bodily processes not so much in secrecy, but in general taboo against the recognition of their reality. CWL is breaking down these walls, which in the future could also lead to the much needed institution of sex education and the prohibition of FGM (sadly near 98% in Egypt alone).

One the first days in Egypt here I was able to attend a graduation for a class (#39 I think, making the number of graduates now well over 500). It was a time of sincere celebration as for the first time in many of the graduates' lives, they had a real future full of hope due to the acquisition of marketable skills. The network of CWL has greatly expanded in ten years offering multiple placement opportunities, from private in-home contracting, to the governmental pediatric cancer ward (grossly understaffed and overcapacitated 'subsidized' health care environment in which CWL is supplementing staff) to the geriatric floor at the Evangelical Presbyterian Hospital. As most of the trainees come from extremely poor neighborhoods of Cairo and the generally poor areas of upper Egypt, they have often not even completed secondary school, thus extremely limiting their employment opportunities. And consequently, their joy at the essence of opportunity is really something to behold, as I contemplate the normality of not just high school but college graduation of the middle and upper classes of America. I am truly one of a comparably small numer in this world with the ability to enjoy the stability of prospective livelihood. As I watch these transformed individuals beam with great pride in their achievement, I'm reminded of how much I take for granted the ample opportunities presented to me by the numerous systems of support that hold me in my life at home--from my immediate family to my extended family to my church to my friends to my university. And in my gratitude to those who have gone before to pave a way for me (thanks mom and dad, grandparents) and to those who continually support me, I, like the caretakers from CWL, am propelled to a life of love and service, for certainly "to whom much is given, much is expected."

Ramadan

I've often been walking home since the 4th of October. Its a decent 40 minute's walk across the city from where I work to the apartment here and though I do enjoy walking, this daily forty-minuter is not one I'll be making for the remainder of the year. Surely I've better things to do with 40 minutes. But the reality is that given I have the time (I've been getting off work around 2 everyday) and that mass transportation is simply not an option (due to undesirable overcrowding and the fact that walking is probably faster anyways given the traffic:>), my two legs eagerly assume the job of returning home, or wherever else I'm going for that matter. And what better way to take in the character of a city than by foot, as inevitable surprises seemingly wait around every corner, especially during Ramadan--Islam's holy 9th month of the lunar calendar in which we are now in the midst of here in Egypt. And so I choose to walk, and sometimes even manage to snap a picture here and there of the chaos that occurs in the hours before sunset, like the photo here of typical business in a Ramadan sweet shop around 3PM. I suppose I could use the extra exercise too as there's been ample food intake this month...

From schools to businesses, the city virtually shuts down at 2PM everyday as all spill into the streets scrambling for taxis, clawing onto the outside of overexploitation buses, shoving in behind the closing doors of the underground, or riding the front of the tram (see photo), all in order to arrive home by sunset (today at 5:17PM as public television broadcasts the daily breaking of the fast) with whatever special culinary surprises picked up on the way. For at sunset is the famous "iftar," or the breaking of the fast--a great meal shared with family and friends following a daily period of fasting from sunrise to sunset. The fast entails no food, water, or even sex during daylight hours fo Ramadan is meant as a time for spiritual renewal for the Muslim, free from earthly distractions. For not only was it in the 9th month of the lunar calendar in which the Koran was first spoken to Mohammed, but he began to annually set aside this month for spiritual renewal through daily fast. And thus to the Muslim, Ramadan exists to this end: makeshift areas of worship are set-up on the street for an influx in worshipping men, and many men and women can be seen traveling with an open Koran as they chant the scriptures. Buses and the underground have proven ideal for communal worship as together they chant from their holy book.

Yet as common to all relationships of interwoven religion and culture, Ramadan manifests itself primarily in its communal affectations, as a cultural background has developed carrying a distinct aura above and beyond the personal spirituality of the time. Like the Christmas that I know, to Ramadan belongs that special 'feel' supported by years upon years of traditions and practices. Indeed, you know "Its that time of year" in Egypt when layers upon layers of streamers are strung in the narrow alleyways between tall apartment buildings, when the lights of fanooset (Ramadan lamps) of all sizes and colors are hung by the doors of Muslims(tradition from the early 1400's?? in which many would process to the countryside to observe the new moon, confirming the beginning of Ramadan. Today they are lit to mark the breaking of the fast at sunset, and extinguished come morning), when makeshift tents of brilliant red and blues are set-up on every corner to house iftars open to the public (and displaying someone's great wealth who provides food every night of Ramadan for any man who can manage to land an open seat at the table). And of course beyond these outward visibilities, there are the other signs of Ramadan like the crazy driving (don't be late for the iftar!!), the incessant spitting in the streets(yes, the fast includes even your own saliva), men in altogether foul moods come early afternoon, and the rise of the toys, sweets, and meat markets every half block(75% of all meat consumed in Egypt is during the time of Ramadan, and together with the sweets one can believe that despite the daily fasting, something like 90% of Egyptians actually gain weight during Ramadan).

As an occasion for sharing with family and friends of all kinds, even a Christian American has been invited to several iftars in the last three weeks in the homes of personal friends, amongst co-workers, and in the tent across the street. And these have provided wonderful memories here sharing in frank and often humorous conversation, attempting many new kinds of foods, eating until there's really not any room for desert (but then being convinced that there is), and feeling the pure hospitality of Egyptian Muslims willing to participate in relationships bridging a large cultural gap. For as we eat around the same table and laugh around the same table and belch around the same table and feel sick around the same table, we can't help but feel the differences fall away in the face of our genuine similarities. There is a saying here (among many sayings) used by Egyptians of all religions both around the table and beyond: ilhamdoolilah (thanks be to God). Together we thank One who is greater for the chance to live and experience what it means to be human in our absolute finitude. Indeed, amidst the piles of beef, the the mass of macaroni, the endless bowls of salad, the unleavened bread that serves as our plates, and the wonderful rice pudding, we find that we are utterly dependent upon each other in this world, moment by moment molding together the present into the world in which we all live. Now in this world of 'globalization' our lives are integrally intertwined, and therefore any action for the good must be rooted in understanding. Looking like me for a place to begin?? Maybe start with a simple invitation:>

The Mountain of God

One of the additional bonuses of being here in Egypt for a year is the opportunity to visit many historical sites relevant to the faith tradition from which I hale. The relativity of distances here in the middle east has been a wonder to grasp:> Take Cairo: as my Arabic prof put it, "I love Cairo because every two blocks is a different city." Nothing is far away--its the traffic that makes it seem like it. Another example: what seems to me to be a relatively short drive of 5 hours to familiar Chicago through nothing but cornfields, will here, if you go east, take you over the great Nile and its fertile delta, past the Suez canal, through the barren Eastern Desert, across to the Egyptian-Israeli border, through whats now become essentially the world's largest prison otherwise known as the Gaza strip, and finally arriving in the one of the holiest and conflicted cities in the world, Jersusalem. I thought my sense of space was radically altered in China--The Nile Valley is giving the eastern seaboard of China a run for its money:> Everything seems greatly compacted here, where so many communities of diverse ethnicities vie for so little habitable land. Yes, I know--I'm learning that this is the middle east... Anyhow, if you go south, 6 hours will take you along the red sea and through desolate canyons to the foot of Mt. Sinai, of which this entry is supposed to be centered around. Last week we took a two day trip to the Red Sea and Mt. Sinai.

For someone who's childhood involved a slight infatuation with the story of Moses and the Israelites in the Sinai manifest through occasional backyard role-playing as Moses in the Sinai, the trip took on a bit of a special meaning--kind of like that childhood feeling of meeting Santa at the mall where the legend becomes quite real. For though the historical accuracy of today's location of Mt. Sinai, the burning bush, and the well are often cast in doubt, I was reminded that it is not the 'trueness' of pinpoint location that ascribes holiness, but the richness and depth of tradition thousands of years deep at these places that demand reverence. For it has been this very mountain that today we know as Mt. Sinai that so many have traveled to in adoration and worship. Such a legacy over the course of time comes to reflect a truth beyond factuality for it is here at Mt. Sinai where man has come throughout the course of history to relate to the divine. Though today the mountain is flooded by modern tourists with camera in hand, I think that perhaps the sincerity of pilgrimage is not completely lost for all. And I'd like to think its okay to play Moses even when you're 22:>

After a swim in the warm, incredibly calm and very shallow red sea (we were wondering if the Israelites couldn't have just walked across:>), we drove through a couple hours worth of the mountains of Sinai whose dark outlines were barely visible in the nighttime hours. In case you were wondering, the tradition at Mt. Sinai is to begin hiking between 12-2AM so as to arrive at the peak in time for the sunrise. And so we began our journey about 12:30 under the light of the recently risen and nearly full moon (like Moses, you still don't need a flashlight to reach the top: now its just contingent on the full moon) following our guide Salem, a local Bedouin who contracts with tourists to lead them up the mountain (the Bedouin are a historically nomadic people who call the mountains of Sinai home). On the surface, it was incredible to merely escape from the noise and dirty air of Cairo to a sky full of stars and a brisk and clean wind in the face. I have always enjoyed the ability of nature to impart terrific peace, and this was no exception. Yet, upon reaching the top around 3am and looking out across a barren moonlit landscape, I began to feel the depth of humanities' reverence for this land. It is a harsh land where on mountain after mountain little grows on little water. Yet, it seems that this utter emptiness of life accentuates the presence of life therein in its oh so fragile character. And indeed, one is able amidst the barrage of camel offers, the coffee houses around every corner, and the smell hot chocolate at the summit, to catch a glimpse of the meaning behind what is written in Exodus, "Take off your shoes, for you are standing on Holy Ground." Beyond visions of a God swirling in clouds of angry smoke around me and the magical touch of a pen of fire on two great tablets of rock, there was something wonderful and simple and utterly existential about the bridge between my experience on Mt. Sinai today and early humanities those thousands of years of ago. Simply put, I too felt small in the hands of something so much greater standing both at the foot and on the top of the mountain. Amidst a region of great expanses of desert and flat lands of fertile soil surrounded by bodies of water, it is truly an awe-inspiring mountain in an awe-inspiring land. As travelers we continue to search for the answers to those difficult questions of life, and as pilgrims we long for the sanctity of those answers.

I have to admit that the sun was a welcome site for I had begun to acquire a good chill sitting for three hours. The desert at 8000 ft. is almost downright cold with the wind factor. And no I wasn't going to pay 20 pounds for a dirty blanket and a mattress to sleep on:> Instead I ended up spending 10 pounds for two cups of hot dust tea. And when the sun rose all 1000 of us at the top looked to the east and welcomed the new day with songs of many nationalities and many a camera shutter click. And finding ourselves behind a group of Japanese nuns on the single file 3000 stairs down (constructed single-handedly by some pious, pious, pious monk as an alternate route of 'penance' to the top), Salem, my Canadian friend Nelson, and I spoke of many things and took a few pictures, content to take it slowly as we warmed under the young sun. And down to my original t-shirt by the bottom, I took a quick look at the big green burning bush and the marriage well well before boarding the bus for the six hour trip back to Al-Qahirra, of which I slept the entire way...