The TAFL is a wonderful place to learn Arabic. Part of the “Coliat al Adab” in Alexandria University just steps away from the famous Alexandria Library, the TAFL center is buzz of international connections with students from all over the world. Students from Russia, Japan, England, Somalia, America, Germany amongst other places all come to the TAFL center to learn various levels of Arabic.

What really stands out in this small building is the professors. The Arabic professors are experienced, approachable and extremely patient with all the students. The sense of family among the staff is apparent especially with the sad moments that have happened this semester…one professor was killed in an automobile accident, and just the other day the founder and first director of the TAFL Center, the professors’ professor, passed away. It was from these events that I could candidly see the intricate web amongst the TAFL staff as they held each other for support and never forgot their professional obligations to their jobs and students.

My week schedule is as follows (classes are 2 hours each):
Monday: Modern Standard Arabic (MSA), Islamic Culture
Tuesday: 4 consecutive hours of MSA, Islamic History
Wednesday: MSA, Colloquial Egyptian
Thursday: Colloquial Egyptian, MSA

Classes like Islamic History and Islamic Culture are more flexible and have often switched around.

The most important classes to me are the MSA and Colloquial Egyptian. The MSA classes are highly structured and focus highly on grammar, comprehension, and syntax. Arabic is an academic challenge unlike any other I have dealt with. I have tried to learn languages before with some success (Spanish for example), but Arabic is different in that it uses a totally different alphabet with some sounds that aren’t commonly found in English. I am constantly pulling from my Urdu and Gujarati background in order to make some comprehension of this rich language. I know that after I leave I would have barely, just barely, scratched its surface.

Studying is rigorous and tiring. I wake up at 7:30 am and sometimes dont get back to my dorm until 5 pm. I take refuge during my long weekends by running on a track, going to the beach and just lazing around.

I have effective become a resident of Alex, no longer a visitor. I knew this the day I stopped feeling bad for giving the taxi drivers 4 Egyptian pounds (Guinea) instead of the 10 they would demand from foreigners. But truth be told, I have never been treated as a complete foreigner (at least not initially) as some of the other IFSA students for the obvious reason of my skin color. I feel very happy walking around the sook (back alley markets) without being stared at and blending in with the rest of the population. Most of my compatriots are unable to experience such a thing, as they are often somewhat a sort of spectacle. I think I am fortunate for this.

Hi all,

It is strange to think that I just finished taking midterm exams when my friends back home are thinking about finals. Anyways apart from getting less sleep at night because I have been studying hard for my Arabic and Egyptology midterms among others I have of course also found time to have fun.

So I was at this family party (not my family) and I was looking after the little ones ranging from the ages of three to seven. (I tend to drift and play with children when I am at gatherings). Omar, Yahia, and I decided to play cards. Actually we were using the cards from the game “UNO.” As we were playing a made up game by Omar (5), I was communicating with the children in Arabic and they were talking back to me also in Arabic. We played for about forty-five minutes until we got bored and decided to do something else. The reason I have retold the story is because when you can play card games with children in the language you have recently started to learn this turns into one of the signs that shows you really are learning something. Actually, I find that children are the best to practice Arabic with because they will only speak Arabic to you. (It forces you to use all of the vocabulary in your repertoire).

In addition to the party I have also gone out to eat, believe or not, at Macaroni Grill. I know you are probably thinking why would I do that being in Egypt, but I just had a craving for Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo and it was the only place I could think of.

All in all I have been having a marvelous time per usual. I recommend to all of my readers to try and come visit this marvelous country and if anyone is considering the IFSA program I would definitely recommend the one in Egypt.

I have learned a lot in the last couple weeks. I have been taught through first-hand experience the true meaning of Tico Time, the cultivation process of crops like cacao and banana, and even a little bit about manners. How’s that for a well-rounded education? According to my freshman year Psychology teacher, I should explain each of these topics in the order they were previously mentioned in the text, but I’m feeling kind of rebellious. Sorry, Dr. Lakey.

Río Sucio, on our way to Tirimbina

The weekend from a week ago our IFSA group took a day trip to a cacao plantation in Tirimbina. A long, narrow and unnervingly wobbly bridge gave us passage over the mighty Río Sarapiquí to lead us to the site where we learned all one could want to know about the cacao bean. From the fermenting to the drying to the roasting to the grinding, it was all a fascinatingly laborious process to finally arrive at my favorite stage, the eating. Apparently the indigenous people used to add spices like black pepper, chili pepper and nutmeg to their chocolate drinks… and I must say, it wasn’t too bad! The whole cacao experience will certainly make me appreciate my future candy bars even more; a phenomenon I never thought possible.

In another IFSA-related trip (though this one was unfortunately not IFSA-financially-sponsored), our Social History of Costa Rica class traveled to the Caribbean side in a 5-hour bus ride that lacked both personal space and seat cushioning. We first arrived in Puerto Limón and ate lunch in the same building where the leaders of the civil rights movement in the early 20th century would meet to plan the people’s return back to Africa, which never actually happened. So can that technically even still be considered history if nothing happens? Hmm… We also got to see the island, Isla Uvita, where Cristóbal Colón apparently landed in his discovery of the country. Another miserable hour in the bus took us to Cahuita where we stayed in an over-priced cabina for the night and 5 of us woke up early the next morning to take a stroll through the famous national park there for a couple hours. At 8:30 am we were off to the Del Monte banana plantation in Sixaola where we sweated our way through a tour of the cultivation, processing and shipment of the bananas. All very interesting stuff, and we really learned a lot, but the lack of a complimentary banana at the end left me wanting more. One lunch and six hours later, we were back in Heredia and I started  feeling my legs again.

The coolest flower I've ever seen

It may come as a surprise to many of you, but even at the ripe old age of 21 I am still learning about manners. I initiated a heart-to-heart with my madre Tica the other day just to make sure she wasn’t secretly holding grudges concerning important household issues like how much time I spend in the shower, where I keep my toothbrush, etc. Coming as no surprise, she immediately brought up my appetite. It’s not even just about the quantity. She doesn’t want me using jelly on toast in the afternoon because jelly is for breakfast. Don’t snack on cookies because they’re for coffee in the afternoons. Calculate microwave time better so you don’t have to punch the buttons and open/close the door twice. These issues that seem ridiculously insignificant to me are apparently important enough to her to speak out against them. Thus, I could be practicing perfectly fine manners with respect to my North American home, but they might be considered rude in another. Manners are relative! Though I doubt that argument would work in explaining to my mom why it was okay for my elbows to be on the table all those years…

I've always wanted to be #24

In regards to the TicoTime phenomenon I have recently come to butt heads with, I’m going to stand my ground to a certain extent and say that while I certainly appreciate and find beauty in the lack of pre-occupation concerning the time of day or punctuality in general, a lackadaisical and apathetic mindset can become a problematic nuisance. Example: I have played in 2 basketball games with my university; one game at 9am and the other at 11am. Finding the scene at 9am on the day of the first game to include a locked gym with the lights off, trashed floor, and no coach or opponent that ultimately only delayed game time until 9:15 wasn’t such a big deal, but when the second game started at 12:15, I was a bit perturbed. Planning is not wrong. Working efficiently and wanting to manage time wisely is not a bad thing. I stand by that. I also realize there are positives that can come from mindsets on both sides of the issue. Can the perfect balance between them ever be reached? I suppose in the end it’s all relative, kinda like manners.

13/04/2010
It’s amazing how much you can change and grow in only two weeks. I have just arrived back home from vacaciones and tomorrow will fall back into my daily routine. However, the two-week break from school exposed me to things I have never before had the opportunity to witness. Because so much has happened, I have decided to split this entry into three separate sections – one for each of my travels.

Part 1 Yuxunah
On Thursday morning of vacaciones I grudgingly rolled out of bed, grabbed my hammock and arrived at the central bus station to head off to spend the next four days with the 600 Mayans who inhabit the small town of Yuxunah.
After a three hour bus ride, my friend Rachel and I were dropped off in front of a one room concrete house. Our señor kindly let us in and removed himself from site (the downside of the four days was that we were not able to interact with the Mayan families that had lent us the one room cinder-block homes placed next to their traditional huts). We strung our hammocks and walked into the bathroom where two buckets of water awaited us. For a second I was stunned. I had anticipated a cold dribble of a shower but a bucket bath? Needless to say, four days without running water opened my eyes to how much water I use in a day (and I don’t consider myself to be a water waster). Using an empty bottle, I managed to shower the first night with 4 bottle scoops of water. The two of us only used ¾ of a bucket that first day, an amount equivalent to about three toilet flushes. While living without running water was shocking, I was surprised by how quickly I adjusted and how much I paid attention to the amount of water I did use.
Another wonderful aspect of our stay in Yuxunah was the day we cooked Cochinita Pibil, a Yucatecan dish consisting of spiced pork, in the traditional manner of burying it underground. To do so, a huge fire is built in a hole and rocks are placed above the wood for about an hour. As the wood turns to ash, the rocks grow scalding hot. At this point, the cochinita, now covered with adobado, onions, and tomatoes is placed in the hole and the hole is covered with layers of sticks, leaves, and dirt. Three hours later, after carefully undiging the hole (la tierra can give you tremendous burns) your delicious meal is ready.
Lastly, the small town life of Yuxunah grabbed my attention. Every day after lunch we took a siesta. I hadn’t slept that much in a long time, and now finally rested, I felt healthy and alive and ready to greet the day. We spent our time swimming, running, chatting, and forming friendships as we participated in various volunteer projects such as cenote cleaning and building window screens to keep out the mosquitoes. Despite its different feel and vibe, it amazed me how easy it is to form friendships with people and find commonalities that we all share as human beings.

Part 2 Mexico City, Pachuca, and Puebla
Monday morning I arrived in Mexico City and was greeted by the husband of my coworker Letty and Letty’s friend and daughter. I was staying with a family in a small house with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchen and a living room. Each room was probably half the size of my bedroom, yet six people inhabited the home. Walking into the house I felt as though I was living on top of others. Used to my own personal space, I quickly realized privacy did not exist. The family was kind and hospitable, but one quickly noted their lack of education. All three children dropped out of middle school, two of which (now 21 and 19) have babies of their own. Yet they lacked not just scholarly education, but a general knowledge of the world that I have always taken for granted. For example, Christian, a ten month old, eats fried chicken nuggets and drinks coca cola out of his bottle daily. Never having been exposed to other healthier options, Christian refuses to drink water and rarely drinks milk (milk is always available to the family due to a stipend program).
Not only does the baby lack nutrition but lacks engagement as well. Christian is often placed to the side as the mom socializes with friends in la calle and the grandmother takes care of the necessary household chores. He hasn’t muttered anything close to a first word and still does not stand up well – even with support and guidance. Dana, the ten month old who lives with my host family in Mérida already walks up a storm, waves goodbye, and has mastered a handful of words. Although Dana is an early walker, I was shocked by the differences in development. If Christian is already so far behind, how will he ever be able to keep up with children like Dana? At such a tender age, Christian already has a giant mountain he must climb to overcome the disadvantages his environment has presented to him. Unfortunately, he will most likely tire of climbing his mountain before reaching its peak, will drop out of school, and will lead the same life of poverty his family currently lives.
In contrast to this family’s lack of education, Claudia, another friend of Letty, and her 16-year-old daughter Mónica were quite a different story. Equally crammed in a small house, the family treated each other with a respect that made me smile. Claudia and Mónica, despite being mother and daughter, are best friends and spend the majority of their time together. But despite the close friendship, Mónica knows her limits – when a ‘no’ is a ‘no’. Claudia places an emphasis on the importance of homework and Mónica has flourished. While she still hates math, she studies hard and knows she will one day attend a university.
Another eye opening development I came away with was the difference between city poverty and poverty in a pueblo. Once outside of the manicured Mexican politicians’ lawns, you become engulfed by a horrendous filth and stench. People throw their trash por todos lados. Families live on top of families. There is never a moment of tranquility. However, in the pueblos, although the level of poverty is the same and ten people may inhabit a one-room home, there is a peacefulness… perhaps better described as a naturalness…Land separates homes. The pattern of life is natural. One wakes up with the sun and begins one’s day early. Food is homemade – tortillas patted out and cooked over a small fire. There is not nearly the level of processed foods available as there is in the big city.
While all these experiences were new and eye opening, my favorite part of this portion of the journey were the three days Don Cucho (Letty’s husband), Claudia, Mónica, and I traveled through Pachuca and Puebla. Born in Pachuca, Don Cucho showed me the places important to him as a small child. I felt as if I could see him 40 years younger, climbing the hills in la orilla of the city. In the same way I feel as though I finally understand the complete life story of Letty. A sad childhood to say the least, Letty’s childhood came to life as we drove past various casitas in Puebla. This was the most important aspect of the trip for me – to have the opportunity to see and visit the history of someone so close to me.

Part 3- Tijuana
After the eye opening experience in Mexico City, I few to Tijuana to meet up with my church group. Twice a year members drive to Tijuana to work with an organization called Esperanza that helps to build decent housing for the poor. However, rather than just building homes and leaving, Esperanza emphasizes community building – something hard to accomplish in a city that is the last stop for immigrants hoping to mejorar sus vidas in the United States.
My first trip to Tijuana (being also my first trip to México) was during my senior year in high school. Eye opening to say the least, it was incomprehensible to me how a wall could separate opportunity and wealth. I was embarrassed by my country’s harsh “keep out” message. On the last night of the trip, Eduardo, the volunteer coordinator, took us to the border to discuss México’s perception of immigration. Naïve to think that everyone in México wanted to come to the United States, I was surprised to learn that the majority of Mexicans take great pride in their work and want to play an integral part in the betterment and development of their own country.
I came to Tijuana this time hoping for a similarly shocking revelation, yet left without any luck. In part, it must because I have seen so much in the past seven months living in México and no longer posses quite the same level of naivety. Additionally, due to rain, I was only able to help build homes one day and thus did not have much of an opportunity to discuss issues with the families. I left Tijuana slightly disappointed, no fault of anyone’s but my own. As my Dad always says, “make your own experience”. I should have opened up a dialogue with at least Eduardo, if not the families about my experiences in Yuxunah and México City.
Lastly, adding to my frustration, I realized no matter how many people ask me about my experiences, they will never fully understand what I have seen and felt. I long to have someone understand the confusion, the solitude, the joy, the growth, and the friendships that come through these trips. But the experience is mine and mine alone and no matter how much I want to share it, their understanding will always fall short. I guess it isn’t about someone getting the whole picture, instead maybe they will catch a glimmer of something they have never been exposed to before. Maybe a sentence I say will spark a thought, or that something will resonate within them and maybe open their eyes to a new idea, just like Eduardo did for me on my first Esperanza trip.

When I think of field trips I tend to consider images of little children walking in a single file line on their way to a museum, or perhaps a factory that may include some delightful sample at the end of a tour. Not so at Universidad Nacional, I tell you. This class of mine, Arte en el Cine (Art in Film/Movies), offers not one, not two, but seventeen – and counting – options for field trips and other discounted activities outside of the classroom; all of which merit extra credit and most of which involve overnight stays in various parts of the country at severely discounted rates. The first of the multi-day trips happened this weekend at a biological reserve called La Selva, “The Forest”, and there were 12 of us students who were able to take advantage of this unique opportunity.

Leaving promptly at 6:30 a.m. we arrived at the reserve and got right to work earning our discounted rate by doing some manual labor. I helped with stabilizing a terrestrial bridge, which basically required lugging and wheelbarrowing around a bunch of rocks. Later we got to do some activities that registered more under the category of “leisure”, like explore some of the trails and find some cool animals. Being the students of the silver screen that we are, we did actually watch a movie while we were there too (“Home”, a film akin to “An Inconvenient Truth” that advocates eco-awareness). Later, we squinted our way through a nocturnal hike to enjoy some of the aspects of the forest that come alive only when the sun goes down. The next morning we were made aware of what a difference a guided hike makes because we got to see a lot of colorful birds and learn things about the forest we otherwise would have missed. Having the afternoon free, we watched Barcelona beat Real Madrid on TV and then I had the best

soccer-playing experience of my life. Not because of the quality of my performance (my skills were essentially gringo garbage compared to theirs), but because we started a pick-up game, “mejenga”, with La Selva workers until the sunset that came a solid 2 hours later on this tiny little field in the jungle that had more mud than it did grass (and we won!). After a thorough shower and a hearty dinner, (buffet 3 meals a day = best part of the trip), we all shared in drink and conversation long into our final night and even introduced the Ticos to the messy deliciousness of s’mores. The next day we hiked up, down and around Laguna Hule, which was really a beautiful (and also incredibly muddy) experience. Capped off by an exquisite lunch overlooking the laguna, this field trip was one I’ll never forget. Not only did I get to experience one of the top-tier biological reserves in the world, but I got to make friends with a great group of Tico guys in the group who really helped improve my Tico-ness by teaching me some of the frequently-used (mostly-appropriate) slang.

As for everything else, things are going Pura Vida. I feel like my level of Spanish has kind of accelerated in the last week or so; perhaps due to a combo of coming off such a spanish-filled weekend and efforts to expand my vocabulary by reading all I can to underline and look up words I don’t know (there are still lots of marks on the pages, but less and less with time I suppose). My first basketball game with the university is this Sunday at 9:00 a.m., which I find to be an odd – and rather un-Catholic – hour for a game, but so be it. Friday I have a trip with IFSA to a cacao farm in Tirimbina to give me a break from all the homework I have piled up after this week, and hopefully I’ll be able to make connections with my professor’s boyfriend to do a little bike-riding around San Jose with his Saturday morning cycling group. Hopefully it stays dry enough to allow it – the rainy season is right around the corner!

Hi all,

I have been very busy catching up with school since my parents were here last week. It was really great because I had the opportunity to do all of the touristy things again. One of my favorite things in the world to do is ride to on a ”felucca” down the Nile.  A “felucca” is a sail boat without a sail that you can ride for one hour on the Nile listening to music and dance or sit and enjoy the nice breeze and scenery. My parents were able to experience this the second night they were in Egypt and they loved it as well.

You know you learn about the Nile River when you are young in school in geography class and you dream about seeing it one day in person, and when you finally make it to Egypt it truly turns out to be magical. I don’t know why I feel a sense of tranquility when I see the Nile. It is somewhat contradictory because I am currently studying in Cairo, which is a large, busy, and congested city, yet I feel at home and calm when I observe the flowing water that has provided for settlements for thousands and thousands of years.

Another fun thing I enjoyed with my parents was the pyramids of Giza. Of course, I love seeing the pyramids, but this time it was special not only because my parents were with me, but also because we got to ride on camels for over an hour. We saw all of the three pyramids, (King Cheops, Khafra, and Menankaure) and take as long as we liked.

Overall, I had a wonderful time with my parents and recommend everyone to try to make it to Egypt and experience the wonder for him or herself.

Cracking dawn once again the next day, we bussed our way to David and Almirante en route to our final destination of Bocas del Toro, where we would the spend the rest of the 5 nights left of our trip. The island we stayed on consisted of our hostel, a restaurant, and beautiful beaches. That was it, and that was enough. We headed to the main island, Isla Colo’n, on Thursday to scope it out and make a supermarket run, but the $4 water taxi required for passage each way and the fact that the town wasn’t quite as hoppin as we expected was enough to keep us on our own island for the rest of the weekend. Friday we did take a 5-hour tour in which we got to see quite a few dolphins, peer over the side of our boat at some starfish, and soak up some snorkeling at the incredibly beautiful coral and diverse sea life at Caya Coral. All for $15! The rest of our days typically included waking up at the crack of noon to spend cloudy afternoons at the beach either relaxing, body surfing, playing soccer with some local kids, or exploring coastline from the popular Red Frog to the pristine Polo. If and when the shower turned on at 6pm (water conservation during the dry season), we would whip up some pasta, rice & beans, or more PB&J to carry us into our nights spent down at the hostel commons area. When just each other’s company wasn’t enough, there was ping pong, pool, life-size chezz, board games, a restaurant, foreigners from all over the world, and hammocks gallore to keep us occupied. An essentially stress-free week was capped off by a stress-(expensive?) trip back home due to having to wait on our boat taxi that arrived an hour late and scared us into thinking we would miss our bus in Changuinola. Nevertheless, in what had to have been an Easter miracle, we somehow made it in time and were off to San Jose in a bus that unfortunately offered as little leg room as it did air conditioning. When all is said and done, I think it is safe to say that my Semana Santa was, albeit unconventional, certainly ”Pura Vida.”