Month: April 2013

I Don’t Know, I Wasn’t There

During 9/11, I was living in a Muslim neighborhood in East London with a Pakistani, Afghani and Bangladeshi community. Gaining perspective.

During the continuing Arab Spring, I am living in Cairo. Gaining perspective.

And during this time of confusion and passion following the Boston Marathon attacks, I am heading to visit Azerbaijan next month with the UN Alliance of Civilization. Azerbaijan is a country between Chechnya, Dagestan, and Iran. I feel lucky to find myself in places where the conversations need to had. Gaining perspective and learning from the good people on this rock in the sky.

When major things happen in America, I seem to miss it. I don’t know what friends and family back home see and feel. The English-language news sources here in Egypt are rather scarce in comparison to what I have back in the States. During the Oklahoma City bombing I was in America, but that was before terrorism was a packaged idea.

I may miss the American perspective. But I am no less American.

Unlike my friends here in Egypt who were aware of the attack in Boston but were not holding their breath for the latest news, I followed closely the manhunt for young Mr. Tsarnaev on CNN and social media. 9000 adult police, military and agents, 1 major US town on lockdown, and one dangerous and wanted teen in a boat. It was good TV but very reminiscent of a police state in all actuality.

I was struck when I heard an announcement after the 19-year-old’s capture. No Miranda rights and no lawyer representation for a few days? Chechnya and Czechoslovakia confused?  A Brown University student falsely identified, killed, and dumped in a river? As a proud American, I was very uncomfortable with this trajectory.

I want to stop for a moment and ask you something: When are you terrified? When do you feel terrorized?

Do you feel enough terror to own a gun? To protect your family?

I am from Chicago. Where a mass number of shootings terrorize the young people of the city. Revenge, honor and self-protection leading to a cycle of terror. Cure Violence is working to stop shootings by treating violence as you would a medical epidemic.

 

Screen Shot 2013-04-26 at 2.58.18 PM

The important campaigns and work of Cure Violence Chicago.

When it comes to weapons, I believe people have the right to bear arms if they are that terrified, but I believe it shouldn’t be cheap and easy to obtain these arms. In Egypt, a couple of my friends carry concealed weapons, mostly pistols. There seems to be a different relationship to the concept of self-protection here after going through a revolution. Many of my friends took bullets for their country when the government shot at them. But my stance is just the same: stand up to whatever the terror with your head high and your hands bare. They disagree. It got me wondering, does the weapon debate apply differently to revolutionary Egypt?

Guns. Bombs. Knives. Terror. It’s one messy, international web.

Alright, enough bad thoughts from me. The sun is shining and I’m at the House of Donuts.

How about a hero and some laughter?

Enjoy Bassem Youssef‘s recent appearance on The Daily Show.

 

 

“I saw a play about the Arab Spring…”

My dance students here in Cairo are Egyptian. They are also Ukrainian, French, American, Japanese and Russian. Different religions, ethnicities, languages…

All in one preschool dance class. Becoming friends.

It’s a small world after all.

524109_10151550858646084_261827898_n

And I love teaching dance in areas where it makes a difference. Want to definitely do more of it. In bigger, more substantial ways. But I’ve been considering if I should shift to more stable work and start studying for the U.S. Foreign Service exam. It’s a long examination process that includes both written elements and high-pressure role play. A tough process that may have to be repeated again and again until successful. And if successful, the work may suit me perfectly, be a life I love, or it may be absolutely frustrating. The life involves 2-3 year long posts in different positions in different countries, not of your own choosing. Then an extra paid month of vacation back in the States in between. A friend of mine has this life. She is currently posted here Cairo, but soon will be off to Kabul.

Kabul is also where Jennifer, a friend of mine I met during my trip to Palestine/Israel in January, now lives and works. That makes two friends in Kabul to visit. Two friends to introduce to one another.

Small world.

Even smaller, a colleague I met in Bosnia is now here in Cairo. And looks like we might work together here. We are planning to grab a coffee tomorrow. And then the day after, I’m meeting a teen gal from Aleppo, Syria whom I met back in September at the TGIFriday’s restaurant on the Nile.

This has all made me realize something: The farther you travel out into the big big world, the smaller the world gets. 

Then there’s Globalization. Although it can be devastating and twisted, it can bring a comfort. Like a hug. A small, recognizable world of global branding and flavors. McDonald’s is the junk food friend you can depend on nearly any place in the world. I am well aware of the nastiness, but I admit to turning to a filet-o-fish meal and chocolate sundae every now and again on different continents. No matter what is happening, McDonald’s will be there with their addictive, additive fries and special sauces. Resilient and reliable.

McDonald's Tahrir - April 2013

Open for Business – McDonald’s Tahrir – April 2013

Technology also keeps the world small. With Vonage and Skype, I can call and video chat with my parents for absolutely free. I can call my mom at any time and get updates on her cancer treatments. My boyfriend can get on the phone and ask her, “How are you feeling, Beautiful?” Plus, the monthly data plan for my iPhone only costs about $15.

Then there’s Facebook, where I get messages from people I have never met. Dance artists in Baghdad. High school peers from Michigan. Emerging choreographers in Egypt in need of dancers for their choreography. And current students at my alma mater Millikin University in Illinois.

Hi Shawn. I am a student at Millikin. I am in the process of doing some research for a dance piece I want to choreograph and my professor said you may be able to help me. I went to London this last semester and I saw a play about the Arab Spring and I became very passionate about this topic and couldn’t believe this had been going on and I didn’t know about it. I think this is something a LOT of Americans don’t know about…”

This last request made me very curious. How is it possible that current undergraduates don’t know about current affairs? I guess I can relate, I didn’t have much of an awareness of Bosnia or Northern Ireland when I was in school; then I became shocked of my lack of awareness when I recently went to these places. Making friends in these places, friends who have been through so much.

I wonder if students in America know that on the same day of the Boston Marathon attack, the U.S. attacked in Afghanistan and 30 people died. Some were children, attending a wedding. Lives ended in two different, yet connected spots in the world.

554936_10151558242796084_1139125147_n

http://principlepictures.com/blog/2013/04/16/to-boston-from-kabul-with-love/

The friend I mentioned earlier, the one who is moving to Kabul, asked me yesterday about what I had seen in Palestine/Israel a couple months ago and if I thought there would be a solution there. My response, “We haven’t even figured Belfast and Bosnia.” What we call peace involves cement walls, a separation of schools and services, revenge-driven art, and a denial of crimes. I know that now.

And I admit that I didn’t know about Rachel Corrie until two years ago when I saw a play in Scotland.

How are current high school and university students, the next generation of leaders, learning about their world? Are they watching plays? Making dances? Are Catholic kids meeting Protestant kids while playing Halo online? If it becomes possible for an American teen to make a friend from Iran or North Korea or any place that might give them hesitation, will they?

I wonder what friendships are being formed that will make their world closer, smaller than the one we grew up in.

Questioning the Ancient Arab Order of Shriners

I grew up with the Shriners. They were heroes. Jolly, elder heroes who rode teeny cars and helped sick kids. They were there for every parade. They all wore Egyptian-style fez hats. Some played flutes. Some were followed by belly dancers.

Their name was The Ancient Arab Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine.

aka The Shriners.

388113_10151105404291084_1500814682_n

Yes their symbol included very Middle Eastern symbolism, but all the members I saw and knew in mid-Michigan were white, Christian grandpas. I didn’t realize the strangeness until just this year.

Their formal costumes, cartoonish Arab. Old school Orientalism.

Recently I looked up the Shriner history and my jaw dropped. In 1870, an actor from New York was on tour overseas and took some notes while in Algiers and Cairo. That was it.

He went back and showed his friend these notes. These two guys based an entire Freemason-subsidiary fraternity based on this one man’s limited interpretation of Arab cultures. That is wild.

If these two friends had picked Ethiopian or Chinese culture for this fraternity, I wonder how that would have went down. Can you imagine the costumes? The music? The logo?

I’m pretty sure membership for actual Arabs and Muslims in the Ancient Arab Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine is pretty low. And when Islamaphobia and Arab-stereotyping swept the country after 9/11, I wonder what the Shiner stance was. I have no idea.

Now, I’m conflicted because I don’t want to criticize. The Shriners do amazing community service and provide some of the best free healthcare for children in need. They help children battling cancer. Even though I am critical of a fraternal institutional organization (not because of any Zionist world-domination conspiracy theories or anything, but purely for the exclusion of women), they remain heroes in my eyes. Even the Catholics and Greek Orthodox Christians who oppose the Masonic fraternities on religious grounds, applaud the Shriners’ altruism.

A friend told me the Shriners “saved the life of a severely burned family member thanks to their doctors and medical resources. Their hospitals and the free care they provide to children are amazing acts of service. I’m grateful that we learned they are much more than a fez-wearing parade presence, but I still love their tiny little cars too.”

644581_10151553381491084_1331203651_n

But I wonder if they see any of their costuming, symbolism, or traditions as slightly racist. Are they comfortable in these outfits? Isn’t it similar to non-Native American Indians dressing as “Redskins”?

Maybe I’m wrong and the Shriners now work with a cultural consultant to learn authentic Egyptian and Algerian music. Maybe they spend some of their meeting time watching Arabic cinema. Maybe there is a reverence for culture that compels them to visit Cairo and they are here on vacation as I speak.

399484_10151105406131084_2083234518_n

I’m guessing they never really thought about the disrespect. Because these seem to be great, retired guys who followed their fathers’ footsteps into a fraternity and know they are doing good in the world.

It just might be time to reevaluate their theme.

Come to Egypt, gentlemen. It’s a great place for an upcoming vacation.

Is this a joke?

This is April. A month that starts out with pranks. People on the alert to not be fooled.

When I heard that Bassem Youssef (Egypt’s Jon Stewart) had an arrest warrant out against him for insulting President Morsi and Islam, I thought it was a joke. And when Bassem Youssef turned himself in, I thought it was a joke. Insulting the President can’t actually be a crime anymore, can it? Didn’t my friends here fight to end dictatorial regimes and political censorship?

Can the Muslim Brotherhood not take a joke?

When Jon Stewart dedicated a portion of his show Monday night to defending Youssef and pointing out Morsi’s paranoid hypocrisy, I thought it was a joke. A real joke. The kind of political joking that enlightens, helps a people progress. The laugh we need to open our minds, get over ourselves.

The kind of healthy joking that Youssef and Stewart give us in bounty.

Youssef and Stewart. Photo by Egypt Independent.

Youssef and Stewart. Photo by Egypt Independent.

When Egyptian Presidency took to Twitter to accuse the U.S. Embassy in Cairo of “negative political propagandizing” for sharing the link to The Daily Show clip, I thought surely April Fools was still happening. This was followed by the disappearance of the US Embassy in Cairo’s entire Twitter account, then a reappearance with The Daily Show clip removed.

Oh, April Fools, crazy. On that note, I went to work.

I am teaching dance on Tuesday and Thursday evenings in Maadi, a sort-of suburb of  Cairo, home to a majority of expats and wealthier Egyptians, the most ethnically-diverse area of the city I have witnessed. Lots of green. About an hour commute from my apartment using a taxi-Metro-walking combo.

The plan was for me to teach jazz and hip-hop for ages 5-12 and adults. But no one signed up. So I am teaching ballet for students ages 3-5 and am working to build a program for children with physical disabilities, neuromuscular disorders, and chronic/terminal illness.

The studio is small but well-kept and bright. It is in the basement of the building which keeps the studio naturally cool in the intense Egyptian heat. They offer jazz, ballet, Zumba, as well as rhythmic and artistic gymnastics. I think most of the other teachers are Serbian and Russian. An iPod full of dance music is provided. The students speak a rainbow of languages, some English, some not. A few of my students are trilingual at age 3.

With some of my students at Easy Talent Academy in Maadi

With some of my students at Easy Talent Academy in Maadi

Yesterday was the first real day of classes after a trial session. A bunch of little girls showed up in the matching pink leotards, tutus and canvas ballet shoes provided by the school. The class is a full hour which could be a challenge for children this young. Yet they did great. I took time with everything and had them wait one-at-a-time to do most things. Keeping the calm and curiosity, Two sisters gave me a run for my money, not following instructions and diving on top of each other as soon as I turned my back. Trying to keep them separated was fruitless. But overall, things were rocking.

Then, with about 25 minutes left in class, the electricity went out.

Music gone.

Pitch black.

I was impressed that the little girls did not scream or panic even a little pit, especially since this was the first class for many of them. In the States, my students go nuts when the lights go out. I felt my hand along the back wall to get to the door, thinking the lobby might provide some light. Nope. One parent turned on the flashlight function of her cell phone. Then the receptionist turned on hers. The parents all brought these little lights into the studio and in the dim blue haze, our class continued. No one even mentioned ending class.

They simply said jokingly,

“This is Egypt!”

Power outages happen all the time. No one freaks or blinks an eye. No generators or emergency lighting. No legal requirements to make places accessible. No limits on how scalding hot the tap water can be. No lawsuit culture. Just good people helping each other make do.

The girls skipped and galloped and kept smiles on their faces. The two sisters with the more challenging behaviors continued on in their way. I decided to keep the movements linear in the center of the room, just to help keep the children safe in the dark. Skip to the green cone, balance in arabesque, and return on tip-toe with crazy arms of your choice.

The parents kept to sides of the room, all quiet, digital lights up.

I thought this might be an April Fools joke for our first class. But no. Our laughter and concentration became substitutes for the music. And we were just dancing in the dark.

 

© 2024 Shawn Lent

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑