Egypt Premium??
The view of the city from Al Azhar Park, one of the most beautiful and tall places in Cairo.
This post was a journal entry that I wrote during one of the first weeks of February. However, these have continued to be big questions that I have wrestled with during my time here in Egypt.
I know that as a woman of extremes, I should seek nuance and balance. Over the past week, my growing sense has been the following:
- I like life in the city.
- I like living in community.
- I like life here in the Middle East (especially here in Cairo).
- If I had to choose, I probably like doing life a little better with Egyptians than Americans.
It is easy for me to find reasons to like life with Egyptians more than Americans. Egyptian culture is very hospitable, both as an outlook on life and in practice. It is common to see Egyptians good nature-ly bickering over who gets to pay the check for the table when they eat out at a restaurant. The Egyptians I have met and become friends with are very open. They are quick to make friends and quick to care about other people and their needs in a way that is uncommon in America. This has looked like offering to take us to the pyramids or to Alexandria for a day trip upon our first meeting because they want to make sure we have the best experience. Additionally, it is easy to find Egyptian friends who share my values for family, religion, and making a difference in the world. It is more uncommon to meet an Egyptian young adult who doesn't live with their parents than one who lives by themselves. Among my Egyptian friends, I have felt honored and respected.
I have loved getting the opportunity to be friends with Egyptians-- even when I don't feel like I deserve it. This is one of the first times (& probably one of the only consistent times) where a majority of the people shaping me, positively influencing me, and socially investing in me could be considered "the other". I know that for them, I too am "the other. While here, there are many ways that I am untouched and unaffected by both the cultural expectations of the United States and Egypt, simply by being here or because I'm an outsider. I know that this all makes the hospitality I have been shown even more of a remarkable gift. I know that if I were someone visiting the US, I would not feel this level of love and care, right off the bat. As my Egyptian friends have shown me hospitality, I have realized what a labor of love they are doing to show me ways in which we are the same. Thinking about this all makes me feel both lazy and hypocritical for the ways in which I have not been able to meet my new friends even close to half way. Often I find my language barrier, my own cultural misunderstandings to be obstacles. Because I am here for only ten weeks, there is nothing to gain and no reason to invest in such a short term relationship. And yet, I am met with love and friendship. More often than not, it is my Egyptian friends who overcome these obstacles, meet me where I am at, and make the relationship grow. To be considered the friend of these Egyptians is a gift to steward well, and one I often feel unworthy of.
I have loved getting the opportunity to be friends with Egyptians-- even when I don't feel like I deserve it. This is one of the first times (& probably one of the only consistent times) where a majority of the people shaping me, positively influencing me, and socially investing in me could be considered "the other". I know that for them, I too am "the other. While here, there are many ways that I am untouched and unaffected by both the cultural expectations of the United States and Egypt, simply by being here or because I'm an outsider. I know that this all makes the hospitality I have been shown even more of a remarkable gift. I know that if I were someone visiting the US, I would not feel this level of love and care, right off the bat. As my Egyptian friends have shown me hospitality, I have realized what a labor of love they are doing to show me ways in which we are the same. Thinking about this all makes me feel both lazy and hypocritical for the ways in which I have not been able to meet my new friends even close to half way. Often I find my language barrier, my own cultural misunderstandings to be obstacles. Because I am here for only ten weeks, there is nothing to gain and no reason to invest in such a short term relationship. And yet, I am met with love and friendship. More often than not, it is my Egyptian friends who overcome these obstacles, meet me where I am at, and make the relationship grow. To be considered the friend of these Egyptians is a gift to steward well, and one I often feel unworthy of.
No matter what I do, the balance will always be unequal in these relationships. This is partially just the nature of cross-cultural friendships. I don't think my Egyptian friends would rather have less of a friendship just so that it can be fair. I wouldn't want that either. I know that beyond the categories of other and same, these friendships are beautiful and life giving because they are human. However, it does make me wonder what other ways my time in Egypt is me benefiting from my otherness. I have realized that there are other ways in which I am allowed to reap the benefits of this culture without having to pay the cost, all because I am an outsider in a country that is not my own. More specifically, I am allowed to reap these benefits because I am a white, American, woman.
For example, it's awesome to be in a family first society, but without a family. It is amazing to feel honored and cherished as a woman without facing the protective control that comes with growing up as an Egyptian young woman. It is one thing to witness and enjoy the structure, comfort, and support of the Egyptian church as a visitor, but it is another thing to live in the routine and hierarchy of the church and acknowledge both the strengths and the weaknesses of the tradition. I even feel these benefits during my time spent at a community center for refugees here in Cairo. It is beautiful to benefit from and witness community form and support each other as members of different cultures. However I get these benefits without experiencing the trauma, poor treatment, and loss that is inherent in being a refugee and outsider in this culture. Can I really say I love any of Egypt if I'm not experiencing its full reality? I get the benefit of opting out on some of the more nuanced parts of the Egyptian experience because of the privilege I hold. I get the choice of Egypt Premium, when everyone else, even Egyptians, only get access to Egypt Lite.
For example, it's awesome to be in a family first society, but without a family. It is amazing to feel honored and cherished as a woman without facing the protective control that comes with growing up as an Egyptian young woman. It is one thing to witness and enjoy the structure, comfort, and support of the Egyptian church as a visitor, but it is another thing to live in the routine and hierarchy of the church and acknowledge both the strengths and the weaknesses of the tradition. I even feel these benefits during my time spent at a community center for refugees here in Cairo. It is beautiful to benefit from and witness community form and support each other as members of different cultures. However I get these benefits without experiencing the trauma, poor treatment, and loss that is inherent in being a refugee and outsider in this culture. Can I really say I love any of Egypt if I'm not experiencing its full reality? I get the benefit of opting out on some of the more nuanced parts of the Egyptian experience because of the privilege I hold. I get the choice of Egypt Premium, when everyone else, even Egyptians, only get access to Egypt Lite.
I love the phrase fehaw haga helwa, which means there is something sweet here, even if you don't know what exactly it is. Can I really even know what it means to love this place with the depth it deserves, if my views aren't nuanced by the true reality of the Egyptian experience that contains the sweetness that I love?
Comments
Post a Comment