Security Slacker

Hey All,

For those of you not already doing so, check out my new blog at www.securityslacker.blogspot.com

Thanks!

Exodus

Tomorrow night Passover begins. As a result I have been researching haggadahs online. Skimming one option I found the following, "Everyone should feel that he or she personally came out of Egypt, and that the passage from slavery to freedom was a living experience to be told and handed down from generation to generation." Only two months old, and yet already worlds away, my memories of Cairo bleed like wine on a tablecloth. While tales of my travels, my friends, and the revolution are regaled often, the meaning of my six months in Egypt lurks in the gaps between thoughts, waiting for me to fully realize what lessons are buried in the rough. As I reflect on Passover's black-and-white tale of good's clear triumph over evil, I struggle to sketch my own story in shades of grey.

The launch

Yes folks, it is in fact that moment you've been waiting for. As promised, I have created a website dedicated to the art of foreign policy analysis, with an emphasis on national security. While simultaneously filling the role of unemployed college graduate (a bit cliche at this point I know), I prepared what I hope will be a public forum for educated debate. I welcome contributors - if you have an interest in international affairs and want a chance to write, then The Mandell Group is the place for you. Please keep in mind that the website is in its infancy, so the design, content, and capabilities will continue to be refined.

Enjoy!

-CEO, Founder, and Intern of The Mandell Group

www.themandellgroup.com

The Sun Also Rises

The United States’ response to the revolution in Egypt has been understandable but ultimately still lacking. It is important to acknowledge that the Egyptian revolution was entirely an internal affair. The grievances were between a ruler and his people, and the revolution itself was from start to finish, homegrown. It was wise therefore that the United States respect the Egyptian people’s right to self determination. If I recall correctly, Secretary Clinton made a statement to this effect during the protests. The challenge for American- Egyptian relations however starts now. The United States already missed one opportunity to win the goodwill of the Egyptian people during the protests. While intervention was neither necessary nor appropriate, it was obvious America stayed behind the curve in terms of rhetoric and support. This is understandable, it took less than three weeks to topple a regime in power for more than three decades. It is no surprise reaction time would be slow. As I hovered near my television in Cairo a week or so before Mubarak resigned, I kept silently urging President Obama to come out with a clear message in support of the protesters. I understand the delicacy of the matter. Gamble and lose and suddenly the country would have made a serious error with a key strategic ally. Yet, the Egyptian realization of values that America founds itself upon was too clear a moment to tip-toe around. This opportunity lost, it is time to step in and help make real change possible. As a piece in Al Masry Al Youm describes , the road ahead for Egypt is long. Much of the change thus far has been political when it needs to be economic. As an NPR Market Place report suggested, Egypt is ready for democracy, but the adult illiteracy rate of over 30% will prove a challenge. Acknowledging that the United States already sends billions of dollars in aid to Egypt, a targeted initiative would go a long way. For example, offering to fund Egyptian run programs that fight illiteracy, a project especially important as elections draw near, would go a long way towards forming a new and better relationship with the Egyptian people and possibly the larger Arab world.
Understandably, the United States and Israel both worry about what is to come next. For both parties I would offer the following solace: this will be a period of transition, but can ultimately lead to relationships that are more sustainable. Dictators have a shelf life, and desperately supporting those that have an iron grip on power has proven to be poor foreign policy. It is hard to tell where the pieces will lie, but thus far the changes in the Arab world have been secular, peaceful where possible, and democratic. This is a surprising and positive trend that the United States and even Israel, should both embrace. Uncertainty abounds, but soon it will be time for the United States to start forming new and improved relationships with countries that will look entirely different this month than last. This is an opportunity. As Middle East Institute scholar Robert Murphy argues, now is the time for the United States to rewrite its Middle East policy in order to finally align its interests with its values.

The Mandell Group

The job search is an interesting process. It inspires a good amount of humility, most likely too much frustration and creative if not shameless interactions with those who can help. While the typical day on the job hunt can range from daydreams of a corporate corner office to threats of retirement at age 23, if nothing else it forces self-reflection. What am I interested in? Luckily, I have an answer, arriving at one can be a journey in itself. Me, my passion is security policy. While growing in popularity, this statement usually elicits some head tilts. I'll do my best to define it (as I see it) here. Security policy is not a unique field, rather it is a framework or perspective in which to view many of the challenges we are faced with today. In order to make a decision about what policy will make the nation safer, it is important to weigh the economic, environmental, political, social, and military implications of both the problem and the solution. I like to tell people that despite the rhetoric there is a good amount of idealism involved. A world free of nuclear arms is not outside the scope of security studies. Much of the recommendations made within this framework are instantly credible due to their national security guise. It's one thing for a left-of-liberal advocacy group to recommend we end our addiction to foreign oil. It's quite another when military officials recommend the same thing due to security concerns. I enjoy the comprehensive nature of the discipline, because after all, though we all pick separate majors in school, in reality issues cannot be classified into single categories. Ultimately my goal is to advocate for (and maybe one day create) policies that would make the world a safer, better place to live. That's what I'm interested in.
Now no one has snatched me off the job market as of yet. Though my search continues in earnest, I would prefer not to wait to get started. I will be developing a website where I can publish some freelance analysis, and hope to have others with similar interests contribute as well. Until I get more content on the site however, I will be sharing my thoughts here. The issues of the day are too interesting and too important to wait for someone to finally pick me. Though if any future employers are reading this, please, pick me.

Arabian Nights

Last night I volunteered at a charity event in Portland's glitzy Pearl District neighborhood. It was an annual fundraiser and the organizers aimed to please. The tables were set, the caterers were matching, and the theme was... in poor taste. For the record, the charity most likely picked the theme for the evening upwards of a year ago. Unfortunately however, "Arabian Nights" seemed to be both disconnected and insensitive. This was not a commonly shared opinion, honestly I seemed to be the only one to notice. After I got over the irony of flying home from Egypt only to find myself at an event playing Amr Diab's greatest hits, the tragedy of it all began to sink in. Here during this Arabian night, guests would be invited to shower themselves in festive jewelry, take a risk and get a henna tattoo, and try their luck at wine ring toss (my event) before enjoying their Lebanese meal and dinner entertainment. A good time was surely to be had by all. How many of Portland's glitterati crowd asked themselves if the same was true for the real Arabian night? Will the Arab world sleep soundly? Or will they wake up to more violence, uncertainty, and injustice?
The situation varies across the region. Mass protests continue in Yemen and Bahrain. On a smaller scale, protesters also take to the street in Jordan and Saudi Arabia. In Egypt, though protests continue, the people have begun to dig in to start the real work of implementing lasting change. Egypt was on my mind last night. A friend of mine wrote about how even though the revolution accomplished an admirable feat of ousting dictator Mubarak, the real change so desperately desired by Egypt was in no way guaranteed and was perhaps even in jeopardy of slipping away. If Egypt was on my mind, Libya was on my heart. While the champagne flowed and bids were placed as casually as greetings were offered, I thought about Libya's Arabian night. Some parts of the country rejoiced after taking control from the government, but the violence and oppression continues. Qaddafi continues to kill his own people. The Libyan people are literally dying for their rights, and here we are discussing the pros and cons of the 2009 Pinot Noir.

Dear Students

Dear Students,

I will not be returning as your teacher for the second semester. I think we can all agree teaching is not my calling. That said, I was very happy to have you all as my students. Your personalities and energy kept my day interesting. One of the main differences between school in Egypt and school in the States is that in Egypt, students want to relate to their teachers as they would a friend. This took some getting used to but in the end I really enjoyed it. It was a pleasure to get to know you all and I hope that we can stay in touch. If I could give you one last assignment it would be to write to me and tell me your thoughts on the revolution. I would love to hear your reactions and your predictions for the future of your country. So please write, tell me what you think!

As you continue your studies and then move on to careers, I hope you'll keep the following in mind:
1. Things are more likely to go wrong when you're in a hurry. This is something a teacher of mine told me in high school and I'm sure glad he did. For example, if you're running late for your first day of work, watch out, because this is probably when you'll lock your keys in your car.
2. Machines can tell when you're trying to do something important. You've already seen this to be true. Your printer works until you actually need to print out an assignment that is due. Keep this in mind. It helps to actually tell the machine that you know their trick and not to worry because you are not actually in a hurry.
3. Think for yourself. I'm only slightly farther down the road than you but what I am learning now is that we all see the world differently - and this is okay. At the end of the day, your thoughts make up who you are. It is okay to disagree with what you hear in class or even what your friends say. Finding out what you truly believe in and then communicating that clearly is what education is all about. Surprise: there is no right answer (except on my quizzes.)
4. Education is not just a check in the box. Please, please don't be afraid to make mistakes or ask questions. Training your mind to think critically is a dynamic, fluid process. Education is not just something that happens if you are physically present in school for 12 years. It is something you work at and develop according to your own style and interests.
5. Live deliberately. This one you've heard before, but it's true. Our time on Earth is short and I believe much better spent living a life thinking and acting with intention. As you have just witnessed, you can do whatever you want - the world is yours for the taking. So it's time to start deciding what kind of person you want to be, what kind of work you want to do, and start making your place in the world.

I hope this helps. Please don't take my departure personally. If anything you guys had me double guessing my decision. I hope to get emails from all of you soon telling me your thoughts about the new Egypt. Also, please contact me if you're ever in need of college recommendations, etc. or just some general advice or guidance.

You guys are the best.

Much love,

Miss Erica

100% Organic

There is one distinct symbol of wealth here in America. It has nothing to do with Lexus, Mercedes, or Porsche cars, luxury hotels or larger than life TV's. This symbol is much less flashy, but I assure you, equally telling: the American health food store. Rows upon rows of organic, vegan, carbon-neutral treats ooze wealth like hot wax down a surrendering candle. The truth is customers (and admittedly, I am one of them) opt to forgo basic goods in exchange for more expensive, trendier versions of the same products. There is no purer demonstration of luxury than having the option of paying more for what many in the world struggle to buy even at the most basic levels. Before the latest Egyptian protests (influenced in part by poverty and rising food prices) the largest protests in Egypt took place when the government tried to cancel the bread subsidies. Though sometimes dreadlocks-clad and hemp-adorned, I urge you to appreciate the next time you stop by your local health food co-op. The good fortune of finding yourself there can be overwhelming.

A revolution for the rest of us

My mom told me a funny story today. I found it endearing but more than that it finally made me notice what I had been sensing for a while. There was something about the Egyptian revolution that always struck me as unusual. Bear with me, there is more nuance than that. Even as the storm clouds of change were forming, and the wind of democracy was only a slight breeze, my American family and friends all told me how closely they were following the news. Then, as events progressed, and even during the internet/cell phone black out, there was a sense that the world was watching - and watching with a fervor not customarily granted to foreign affairs. "Tahrir Square" became a household name. Suddenly everyone knew all the Egyptian players and their potential next moves. I was surprised. I was expecting to experience the phenomenon of being wrapped up in a dramatic event abroad only to have it mentioned briefly below the fold back home. The opposite was true. After my return from Egypt I found that my friends knew as much about the revolution as I did, including all the Cairene street names.
My mom attended her Toastmaster's meeting this morning. She told me a man from Buffalo, New York gave a speech documenting the 18 days in Tahrir. He showed newspaper clippings and timelines. He was not Egyptian. I had to ask myself, why was this news story particularly gripping? Americans are notorious for not following events in other countries, our attention span when it comes to news cycles rivals that of a dachshund puppy, so how in the most over-stimulated of times did Tahrir Square capture the attention of the average citizen for over three weeks? The answer is perhaps more obvious than the question. As described by experts and bystanders the world over, this revolution was secular, peaceful, and justified. These were everyday citizens coming together to say we don't like the status quo. Now any parallels drawn would require several caveats, but I would hint that I know very few Americans who would say they are pleased with the way things are going here. America was glued to the TV set for more than just the foreign policy significance. Maybe we finally wanted to see something start heading in the right direction for a change. Maybe we all felt we needed this.

Peddling my Wares

After much thought I have decided not to return to Egypt. This fact has taken some getting used to. When I open my eyes in the morning I expect to see dusty sun-covered minarets, street vendors, and traffic. Instead these days I'm greeted by views of evergreens, frost, and most notably, sidewalks. Perhaps inspired by the revolution, I have decided to embrace this next phase of my life and move forward with a healthy mix of confidence and desperation. In other words, I need a job. Admittedly, Portland is notorious for lacking jobs - especially those in my field - but I just witnessed a dictator resign, anything is possible.

Encore

Willamette Week also published some photos taken at the protests. Please note the second two photos were taken by me but the rest were taken by my friend Taylor.

http://www.wweek.com/portland/blog-26438-more_photos_from_egypt.html

Willamette Week

Published today on www.wweek.com : http://www.wweek.com/portland/blog-26425-one_portlanders_eyewitness_report_from_egypt.html

Out of Africa

A friend of mine remarked to me that though everyone claims it's a small world, he feels the world is incomprehensibly large. I write today from Bangkok, Thailand, and though I've just arrived, my life in Cairo, Egypt already seems worlds apart. Many thoughts melted across my mind, the way coconut milk slides across sliced mango, as I made my way from one continent to another. As I left my Cairene apartment on a rare misty morning only yesterday, I hoped desperately that though a luggage-bearing foreigner, Egyptians would not think I was just another tourist fleeing an "unstable" country. I wanted to tell anyone who saw me that morning that I was not running away after broken promises of Nile cruises or other scheduled tours. I was different, I was one of you. But the truth was I was packing up and leaving, just like any other tourist. As I paced the Bahrain airport during an uncomfortable lay over, I could not seem to shake the feeling. I wasn't prepared to be yet another tourist on a tropical holiday. I had witnessed something, something that changed me. Yet here I am, relaxing in a hostel that is a virtual zen paradise, the aromas of famed street food already wafting away the memories of revolutions past. Still, I console myself in realizing that no matter what happens next, I will recall with great fondness a time when my friends and I gathered and discussed our lives and our new country's future. For we were revolutionaries once.

Revolution and Humanity III

The views on the protests I have expressed thus far have been positive. Parents and friends wondered why I was refusing to leave Egypt. I told them that I felt I had to be here for this historic moment, and that my understanding of conflicts, governments, and international relations grew by the minute. That said, after yesterday's experience, I fear that like a sneaker wave upon a shore, the open window of observation will soon be shut.
Since the violence on Wednesday, the attitude towards foreigners has changed dramatically. Before we were greeted with amusement and gratitude. Now, it is hard to walk more than half a block without being stopped by army checkpoints or gangs of young men. Foreigners are now met with suspicion. Cameras used to be embraced, Egyptians asked to have their pictures taken with signs written in both Arabic and English. Now, any camera equipment inspires accusations of journalist. Moving around the city has become difficult, especially downtown. Tuesday evening, on my way home in a cab, all I had to do was make eye contact with any civilian or soldier running the checkpoints. Seeing I was a young, American girl they would just wave our car through. Now, barely 48 hours later, when they spot me in a cab, the car is pulled over, searched thoroughly and my passport is checked. How quickly things change.
My expat friends and I had loyally decided to wait out the revolution and return to our daily lives here in Cairo once the dust settled. We realized last night in somber tones however, that it was time to leave. In melancholy glances, we saw mirror images of unspoken thoughts. What troubles us most is that there is no way to know whether or not we will be able to come back. It is hard to walk away from a situation in which we were so emotionally involved, not knowing if we will all be back in two weeks or if this is in fact goodbye.

Evening prayer in Tahrir

Medan El Tahrir

Revolution and Humanity II

As promised, I am doing my best to provide snapshots of the last few days. My first and second visits to Tahrir square since the protests began left a profound impression on me.

Monday, January 31: It's true what they say, Tahrir did have the vibe of a music festival, an acoustic guitar would not seem out of place. For all the unrest and world-wide media coverage swirling around the square, it was surprising to find that the epicenter was relaxed and peaceful. My friends had established a meeting spot near a statue in front of the city's notorious bureaucratic headquarters. More than one person mused as to why that building had not been burned or even fired upon by the army, the general fear though was that if attacked, the building would demand, as it always does, days of mind-numbing paperwork. We strolled through the protesters, reading signs, taking pictures and exchanging a few words. As with most Egyptian scenes there was a sense of impromptu organization - families arranged picnics and men organized themselves for the evening call to prayer.
Surrounding the square there were many restaurants boasting maybe equally shocking scenes in the country's capital: single file lines. We stared in awe as men waited patiently one behind the other and even instructed newcomers that yes this was indeed a line and that they would have to step in back. We strolled a little while longer and paused again to listen to music flow through the streets like cherry syrup on summer's first snow cone. We left the square that evening feeling confident, inspired, and generally relaxed.

Tuesday, February 1: This was the day of the million member march, so labeled by the April 6 Movement. The mood downtown was decidedly more tense, but this tension seemed to only settle just around the square, with the inside's peace and beauty still preserved. Entering Tahrir was by far the hardest part of my day. As we drew closer we were pushed into a large crowd funneled through civilian checkpoints. They were checking ID's - more to see if you had one - because it was impossible to apply any specific scrutiny as the masses moved past. I held a photo copy of my passport above my head and did my best to inch through while drawing as little attention as possible. This plan largely failed because they would insist at points that the men and women separate. Women were given more space and could meet their men at the end of the road. With my group of friends being all guys however, I often chose to stay amongst the crowded hoard. Luckily, two tall Egyptian men adopted us. They were instantly protective for two reasons. First, they appreciated us coming to witness these protests and wanted to make sure we understood the situation so that we could spread the word back home. Second, they were, understandably, trying to avoid the situation of an injured American. If one of us were hurt, it would create an international incident unlikely to bode well for Egyptians.
Once in the square, it was again peaceful and jovial. We camped out at our spot, where many many Egyptians came to thank us for simply being there. I was humbled by their gratitude and could only ever manage a meager "your welcome." As Americans, our presence was largely embraced that day. In the evening, we sent out a search party to bring back food. We laughed and talked as we shared pizza and fateer on the hallowed bricks of the country's revolutionary headquarters. As per the custom, when we had our fill we offered any leftovers to people nearby. Then they too laughed and talked and enjoyed their pizza. On my way out that evening, I even saw a make shift tea shop. Men huddled around collecting cups of tea for their families and friends. I left for a second day in a row with a feeling of warmth and confidence in the Egyptian people.

Enough is Enough

Revolution and Humanity

It's hard to know where to start with this post. My experience in the last few days has been incredible. As an earlier post indicates I found myself questioning my role in what is an intimate moment for Egypt. After getting over the initial blush however, I have immersed myself in this historic movement (still as a spectator) and shared in the experience with the Egyptian people. Here I will offer you snapshots of the past few days.

Friday, January 28: What I noticed first was the sunlight. The streets were eerily quiet as rows of riot police cordoned them off. We walked down the naked streets, usually clothed with throngs of people, into rays of sunlight. Somehow, in all my daydreams of revolutions, I never pictured it to be sunny. These romantic ponderings however were decisively interrupted when after turning the corner down a back street we were hit with an invisible wall of tear gas. This was my first encounter with the misty weapon, but it would not, as the day promised, be my last. We paused and watched as protesters halted their cries in order to observe the afternoon prayer. We took advantage of this moment of calm to cross underneath the 6th October Bridge in downtown Cairo. This required that we snake our way through burning tires and burning police cars. While not unfamiliar to pollution, this smoke burned the sky with fumes of self-determination and necessary change.
We then met a crowd of protesters. Some paused and asked us what we thought of the movement. They smiled that endearing Egyptian smile when we told them that what we were witnessing was nothing short of beautiful. Smiles faded however when my friends and I and the Egyptian protesters found ourselves trapped in front of the Ramses Hilton hemmed in by the police's weapon of cowardice and fear. What protruded from that dark backdrop of danger and violence however, was the shining star of Egyptian community. I cannot count the number of Egyptians who approached me offering me water, onions, vinegar, or even a kind word. I witnessed one man lighting a police post on fire. His fellow protesters however stopped him immediately and made him put out the fire. When the hotel fired a rubber bullet in to the crowd out of desperation the crowd chanted, "peacefully, peacefully." As night began to fall we drove home in a taxi. As Cairo burned behind me, I couldn't help but feel the warmth of the Egyptian people. Despite all the ugly chaos spurred by the police and their commander, what ideals were manifested by Egyptians that day were only the most beautiful.

And what is it that you think they'll say?

Twitter and Facebook are currently blocked here in Egypt. What does it say about a government that they won't let their people speak?

A moment for Egypt

My friend and I spent the afternoon discussing myriad challenges faced by Egypt and the Middle East. As sunlight streamed in through the coffee shop window, I was mindful that these same rays of sun were touching down on another scene entirely just a short cab ride away. Today thousands of Egyptians protested poverty, police brutality, and Mubarak himself among other grievances. For the past week I debated attending the protests. Ultimately however I decided not to go. Twinges of regret later raced up my spine as my friends who did attend regaled tales of the day. Yet while I appreciate and admire their experience, every time I found myself doubting my decision I came to the same conclusion. My presence would not have helped, and may have even hindered, the Egyptians who were voicing very personal and very real concerns. These protests are a result of daily hardships faced by many here in the country. I believe this is an important moment for these citizens who so rarely get to speak their minds. I believe in their cause and today all I could offer them was my absence. I hope it helped.

Siddhartha

I'm here. I'm here but I'm living in a bubble. I write not to complain but to acknowledge. Men burn around me, disenfranchised citizens scream at eager, panther-black batons. There is not enough food or jobs to go around. Laborers float in the dead sea of unemployment. Yet here I sit behind palace walls, the visions around me tinted emerald as I gaze through jewel-encrusted lashes known only by the fortunate here in the city victorious.
I saw a beggar yesterday. He hobbled down the row of cars stopped at a red light. I would like to say that I met his stare and acknowledged his innocence and the vulnerability any pedestrian might feel amongst a sea of horse power and the steel of wealth. But I didn't.
Daily the news washes stories ashore like pieces of drift wood upon a tired beach. The U.S. discusses cutting funding to Egypt. Egypt's middle class is too divided to unite against government inadequacies. Necessary subsidies are only stinting economic growth. And I see none of it. I'm here. I'm here but I'm living in a bubble.

Two roads diverged in a wood

I came to a crossroads today. I entered the classroom and there, like knife wounds on flesh, I noticed three swastikas etched in to a student's wooden chair. Two identities within me recoiled in horror. Students were asking me questions about my morning but I was momentarily dumbfounded as the symbol and I starred at each other. Like Achilles squaring off with Hector, both of us feared and loathed the other, but despite all the talk, we had never before come face to face. All was quiet as the Spartan dust settled. There we were, oppressor and oppressed only now both anachronisms in a time that has changed both our roles and more importantly our reputations. The lightly weathered pine wood seemed apologetic for its scar, one that seemed to taunt and beg the question: what will you do now? Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by... only it didn't make any difference. I decided I had to tell someone. A few years ago swastikas were discovered on school property at my university. All students involved were expelled immediately. While I would never expect the same reaction here in Egypt, surely I thought the school might fear for its reputation, or at least its furniture. No one cared. One administrator chuckled softly and said "oh yes, that Nazi thing." Another waved me out of his office saying "oh not to worry, they don't mean it." But isn't this a rather dangerous symbol to embrace but not to understand? This was cause for some self-reflection. Perhaps I was letting my preconceived notions get in the way of what was ultimately a cultural learning experience. Maybe I needed to relax and realize that the etching does not carry the same weight here. And yet this seemed unsettling somehow. Hatred is universal. Hatred transcends cultural bounds. While the significance of the symbols change, the ideas don't. Schools are supposed to strike a match to the darkness of ignorance. Shouldn't we as teachers make sure that these flames are born from the flint of truth and love? I've been told I pose too many questions without enough statements. But today I asked my school a question, and I'm still waiting for the answer.

Walk the Line

I've been thinking a lot about governments. Having grown up in Liberal Bubble, USA I spent my youth investing my faith in Government, the solution to every problem. Those were golden years, Clinton was in office and in my naivete, I thoroughly believed the entire nation agreed with everything said on NPR. It wasn't until Bush won in 2000 that I realized there actually were Republicans. Since then, my political education has only eroded my vision of what I saw as a larger than life institution. This year, and really this week (just look at the NYTimes homepage), have shown me that governments are fragile. I began to catch on to this in the Fall, when I witnessed Egypt's ruling party design and enforce yet another victory. Additionally, three simultaneous news stories from this week's headlines have driven this point home. First, Tunisia's government is in peril after riots and demonstrations. The people are fed up with the First Family's wealth and corruption. As the Times states, they blame this greed for the rampant joblessness in their country. While this unrest I am sure has been brewing for a while, it was further instigated by a leaked cable as part of the WikiGate scandal. I might add that the President of Tunisia has been in power for 23 years. Second, Lebanon's government collapsed this week after Hezbollah pulled their members from the coalition government. The country, as it has on several occasions, is now waiting to see what happens next. And third, the United States witnessed an attempted assassination - one that left many dead including a 9 year old girl who just wanted to learn more about her government.
Perhaps weakness and the vulnerability of government are most apparent in the first two examples, but the third is for me, equally tragic. As the years have progressed, the political atmosphere in the United States has become so toxic that watching the news no longer feels educational. Educated political debates, essential to the health of our democracy, have turned into tabloid-style equivalents to rhetoric food fights. However embarrassing this may be to the country, the real threat is that vitriolic partisan clashes are no longer confined to just the campaign cycle. The misinformation that seeps like smoke from the nostrils of the dragon of hate is now permeating the every day work of our government. Important legislation is skewed or ignored simply to gain a victory for one side or worse, ensure defeat for the other. I fear that the country and 9 year old girls everywhere will pay a steep price for what I see as counter productivity. Perhaps the incident in Arizona, while I agree not necessarily politically motivated, is the proverbial smoke alarm we've all been waiting for.
I happened to catch a rerun of Oprah on TV the other day. Her guest was former president George W. Bush. The interview took place after he was out of office. Oprah asked him how it felt to lift off from the steps of the Capital on Obama's inauguration day. As he responded, they cut to a clip of Bush and his wife waving goodbye and flying away in the presidential helicopter. For all the disagreements between those on the Right and those on the Left, the United States has maintained a peaceful and law-abiding transfer of power based on set term limits since its creation. If we lay our weapons down, both literally and figuratively, I think we'll find that we have the foundations of a government that works. Given the political realities of many countries today, this is truly a blessing. As we walk the thin line between hatred and empathy, I hope we start leaning in one direction more than the other.

Dina and Ahmed

Dancin'

Here are Dina and Ahmed dancing during the Zeffa as the happy crowd looks on.

Henna party

Here a few of us show off our henna and belly dancing attire.

The Wedding

This past couple weeks I have been very privileged to be involved in wedding festivities for my friends Dina and Ahmed's wedding. Egyptian wedding traditions are blend of East meets West. The wedding process starts with the Katb-ael-Kitab. This is a legal ceremony. It takes place at a mosque, though not inside, and can be quite brief. This is done from a week to a month before the wedding, depending on the couple. Then closer the wedding the bride has a henna party. This is the Egyptian equivalent to a bachelorette party. This is meant for the girls only, all the women in the bride and groom's family are invited as well as the bride's female friends. A woman decorates the attendees' hands with henna while girls dance, sing, and gossip. This is one of those events that is supposed to be intimate. Women who normally cover themselves literally let their hair down. It felt great to be a part of this. (Meanwhile the boys attended a football match...)
One of the greatest traditions at the wedding itself (which is for the most part like a western-style reception) is called the Zeffa. The bride and groom enter and their guests stand around as a chorus of men beat drums, play flute-like instruments and chant in merriment. As a friend pointed out, it allows the bride and groom and the guests to pause and just be for a moment. Everyone looks at each other while the music rings out and smiles abound. I'm hoping that the Zeffa makes it across the Atlantic.

Managed Chaos

There's something beautiful about controlled chaos. The art of only just reigning in what is abounding with energy, variation, and uncertainty is like drawing lines in the sand where the waves should stop. This is something that takes practice, it requires its choreographer to let go of ultimate control and settle for the role of conductor of madness, praying all along that things turn out well. Managing chaos has been how I have spent much of my time this new year. On one front, my roommates and I hosted 8 other house guests and several parties. 11+ people in a 3 person apartment can only result in that beautiful disorder of which I now speak. Girls turn bedrooms into backstage areas devoted to hair and makeup. The laundry room becomes a laundromat, and the kitchen a cafeteria. Moving crowds of people in multiple cabs across the undeniable metropolis of Cairo is no small feat, it demands a grace, a calm well known to managers of chaos. Just as wind sweeps leaves off an autumn street, so is the harmony found in gently guiding disorder. I might add that my roommate Sarah is deserving of a Tony award for her epic choreography of the unknown and spontaneous this past week.
On another front, my time at work is becoming, dare I say it, slightly more enjoyable. The Egyptian high school is comprised of rambunctious teenagers eager to go against the grain, to talk, to laugh, and of course disrupt. I tried in the first term to meet this atmosphere with strict policies and unyielding boundaries. But this is to deny the natural order of the classroom. It was I who was moving against the grain. The natural order of things calls first and foremost for humor. Students notice the ridiculousness of their behavior best when I laugh at its absurdity. They notice the flaws in their questions when I correct them in jest. Such is the lesson then, that order reigns when I have less control. That as a teacher, having a pleasant and at times inspiring back-and-forth with students is only possible after I cede some power and become part of the classroom's natural chaos. And when it works, it's beautiful.
Ironically, we are watching Into the Wild in my 11th grade class in order to highlight transcendentalist themes we have been discussing. The movie advocates leaving society, things, and people behind, allowing time for ultimate self-reflection. Yet this year I have found that sometimes happiness comes from being one with the group, of embracing the people and the craziness, all while doing your best to draw ephemeral lines in front of a rising tide.