You Can't Make Mistakes.

[UPDATE 25 August 2010: I have added a gallery of photos. Enjoy.]

Day 1

The first day of the program at New Basaisa got off to an uneven start. We were unsure what to expect but figured that we would play it mosltly by ear. If we did not have enough students the plan was to reschedule the program after Ramadan over the course of three weekends instead of all in a five-day course. Several students arrived in the morning, and a few more trickled in.

At one stage we piled into a pickup truck Sinai-style and drove to another NGO community center nearby where we thought we might conduct the assessment exam since there were participants coming from near there. Jeff and I wedged ourselves in the back seat with two of the participants and the rest hopped in the back and sat around the edge of the truck-bed. Most of the students we had with us lived here in New Basaisa.

After some discussion regard what everyone was expecting and what they were willing to do, it was decided that we would go ahead with the program this week as a pilot and then continue with one after Ramadan as a follow up. We now had twelve students as participants and the three guys who work at New Basaisa with Dr. Salah Arafa—Nasser, Mamdouh and Mubarak the Bedouin—would also take part to improve their English skills. Everyone introduced themselves. There was a wide range of ages, from late primary school age to first-years university. Most of the students identified themselves as being in secondary school.

We eventually decided that in fact we would be conducting the program at New Basaisa after all so we all piled back in the truck—now with more passengers—and rode the few kilometers back to the village. Once there, we administered a basic skills assessment test and did a brief interview in two languages to get an idea of where everyone was at. We learned that most of the participants were starting out at a relatively basic level, though they were all quite enthusiastic. Sometimes this enthusiasm came across as shyness, until asked a question in Arabic and then the answers and explanations became effusive.

Armed with our new knowledge, Dr. Arafa stood in front of the group and gave a tremendous introduction. It was a vocabulary lesson, primarily. The theme throughout, however, had nothing to do with vocabulary and everything to do with understanding the ways we are connected to the people and the world around us. He started with “I/my” and eventually worked his way through “neighbors” and “community” to “region” and “world.”

Jeff and I were up next and went through the introduction to the computing component of our program. It gave us a pretty good idea of what level all of the participants were at and how to move forward. By the end of the day, we were ready with a plan for the rest of the week. We decided that since this is a pretty hands-on bunch and since they live in a farming community that we will do some outdoor excursion type lessons where we go out and have the participants describe their surroundings and what we do out of doors. Tomorrow we will water and tend to a garden and talk about it the whole time. Should be good.

The thing that amazes me the most about these students is how attentive and eager they are. I have dealt with students their age, younger and older both here in Egypt and substitute teaching, as well as at the university—AUC and Western Michigan—and I have never come across students like these. I had almost given up on the idea that anyone ever came anywhere to actually attempt to learn something. With these students, I get none of the sense of entitlement that typically accompanies university students these days, nor the affectations of not caring which is customary for high-school students.

I find it very likely that this phenomenon has to do with what I wrote about last time: living in a community which is based on self-sufficiency and self-sustainability. A number of these kids grew up here. Half of them live here. There other half are here visiting family, but live in Zagazig, where the Old Basaisa is. Theyse are folks who want to have a good, solidly happy life, but who don’t expect anyone else to provide it for them.

I love it here.