You Can't Make Mistakes.

This is a paper that I gave at the 12th annual International Conference on Evil and Human Wickedness, 17-19 March 2011 in Prague. It was published in a volume of papers selected from the proceedings of that conference.

Abstract:

The Arabic term hisba is defined classically within Islamic juridical and theological writing as being the divine or prophetic directive for all Muslims to commanding the right and forbid the wrong [al-amr bi-l-ma’rūf wa-l-nāhy ‘an al-munkar]. The Qur’anic directive which is the origin of this principle is and has been interpreted variously throughout Islamic history: ‘[Believers], you are the best community singled out for people: you order what is right, forbid what is wrong, and believe in God.’ Many of the classical theories of hisba and its proper application were developed as a means for a government to control economic and commercial practices by applying an Islamic orthopraxy to market environments. This official enforcement was the duty of the muhtasib [‘market inspector’]. This is the basis for the discussion of hisba in the works of al-Mawardi in his Ahkam al-Sultaniyya [‘The Ordinances of Government’] and Ibn Taymiyya in his major work on the topic, named simply, Al-Hisbah. This paper analyzes several literary historical anecdotes and modern reports of the application of hisba.

To download the e-book/paper, click the link below.

Live Evil: Of Magic and Men, edited by Sophia Vivienne Kottmayer

Citation (Chicago/Turabian):

Martin III, John D. “Primum Non Nocere: Gray Area in Commanding the Right and Forbidding the Wrong.” In Live Evil: Of Magic and Men, edited by Sophia Vivienne Kottmayer, 79-86. Oxford, UK: Inter-Disciplinary Press, 2011. https://www.interdisciplinarypress.net/online-store/ebooks/evil-monsters-horror/live-evil-of-magic-and-men [accessed February 5, 2012].

I had the pleasure of seeing Dr. Norman Finkelstein speak for the first time ever in Egypt last night at the American University in Cairo. It was not well-publicized. Indeed, it was not publicized at all. I found out by word of mouth that he was speaking in the evening seconds before I would have stepped onto the bus to leave the university. I’m glad that I didn’t. It was also worth being trapped on the campus later that evening when the talk was over, since it finished after the last bus for the evening had left.

I won’t go into detail. If you look Finkelstein up on the web, you can figure out pretty quickly what he is all about. He is good. He is rigorous. And he is not well-liked, simply because he doesn’t pander to the mass-opinion-dominated discourse on Israel. I like him. You should read his books before you judge, though. You may not like him. What I saw was a very thoughtful talk delivered to a group of mostly university-age students, and he didn’t even pander to them. He was brought here by the al-Quds club at AUC, which is a pro-Palestinian student group. They have had a rough go of it until recently as they were never really able to bring anyone in or generate funds until after the January revolution in Egypt.

I’ll give a few highlights and observations. Finkelstein is a pretty big deal, primarily because of the controversy he generates. There were, however, some very conspicuous absences in the crowd. There were very few faculty members present. The president of the university, Lisa Anderson, was not there, nor the provost, Medhat Haroun. It is interesting to note that my department chair, Nelly Hanna attended. She gleefully informed me of the event, along with my advisor. One member of the English and Comparative Literature department as well. That was about all I saw. It is interesting to note that Anderson was—about one year ago, when she was provost—not only in attendance at a talk given by Seif al-Islam al-Qaddafi (son of Moamar al-Qaddafi), but sat on stage with him and moderated the question and answer. She was joined in this by David Arnold, then president of the university.

I bring this up only to note that the relatively quality of the talks delivered by Seif al-Islam and Finkelstein was categorically different. Seif al-Islam delivered a bizarre, incoherent, circularly argued discussion, the thesis of which is that Libya has the most democratic system in the world. I’m not joking. He used twisted logic and anecdotal evidence. He also was plainly just saying meaningless words at points.

Finkelstein argued last night on that same stage that what happened in Gaza in 2008 was not a war, but a massacre. He argued that Gaza, the West bank and East Jerusalem are occupied Palestinian territories. He also argued that the Israel has engaged in retaliation with undue and excessive force, particularly last may against humanitarian groups on the Mavi Marmara. All of this he argued using international treaty and criminal tribunal law.

The most interesting bit of his talk for me came toward the end. He referred to the US President Barack Obama’s upcoming Middle East reprise speech slated for later this week. He said that the best thing that anyone can do is turn off their TVs and radios and iPods and just don’t bother listening to another minute of drivel from that “endlessly sermonizing American president.” And he was right. It will just be a load of boring hemming and hawing, the same as all the other boring hemming and hawing that comes out of Washington these days.

I will likely follow Dr. Finkelstein’s advice on this point. I have tended not to listen to much of what comes out of Obama’s mouth these days. There is no point as it is usually the same load of bull that always comes out. I would encourage my friends here in Egypt to do the same. Don’t listen the the US anymore. You’ll only hear a message that was prerecorded ten years ago in preparation for a decade-long war in the Middle East meant to bolster the American economy. Read a book instead and think about what needs to be done next.

This article appears in this month’s Erudition, edited by Sally Cervenak. You can view the original article here: http://www.eruditiononline.co.uk/article.php?id=935

Egyptian citizens are celebrating after nearly three weeks of continuous demonstrations in Cairo, Alexandria, and elsewhere in Egypt; and right they should. Their tenacity and dedication should be lauded; it will surely be remembered. To have navigated such an uncertain situation with a sense of responsibility, suppressed until only a few weeks ago should elicit respect from around the globe.

What has happened in Egypt these past few weeks certainly came as a surprise to many. After three delusional speeches from the now-ousted President Hosni Mubarak, in which he patronized Egyptians-referring to them as his children, himself as their father-Vice President Omar Suleiman’s announcement could not have come as more of a shock. But this was not the first instance of surprise this year; the very occurrence of such insistent and dedicated protests astounded many, Egyptian and foreign. I myself have come to know Egyptians as patriotic and good-spirited, but not-so-secretly demoralized by the unrelenting oppression of a state fearful of criticism. With slander and libel considered felonious defamation under the thirty-year-old Emergency Law, people have become quite fearful of criticizing the government beyond the accepted generalities of: “It’s Egypt, nothing works” or “fi-l-mishmish” (which is loosely idiomatic for “when pigs fly”).* Cab drivers in Cairo who decried the abuses of the government on an outward journey, were just as likely to praise Mubarak on their return

This well-founded fear of reprisal is what has kept all but the most daring or foolhardy Egyptians from mounting protests in the past. And who wouldn’t be afraid after witnessing the imprisonment of Ayman Nour, after he made comments about the ability of the aging Mubarak to handle the presidency during the 2005 elections? Anyone who vocally criticized the police or the Interior Ministry were just as likely to be falsely charged with a trumped-up offense and thrown in the clink. For years, Egyptians have lived in fear of the Mukhabirat–the intelligence officers of Egypt’s heavy-handed Interior Ministry. Theirs was a dominion of Orwellian surveillance, torture, and imprisonment without accountability. It was terrifying.

This time was different though and it was clear from day two, when the demonstrators began shouting for Mubarak’s ouster. Just one month ago in Egypt, rhetoric like that was likely to get you tried for treason. Indeed quite a few protesters were arrested in those first few days and threatened with charges of treason and sedition. Only once the cries went up, the game changed. After Mubarak made his first historically delusional speech, it was evident that this struggle would not come to an end until he relinquished power. No amount of threating arrest, nor curfews, could put this cry down.

Those who stood defiant put aside their fears of a totalitarian state and made their demands known in the face of what would have been terrible and painful reprisal had they lost. Perhaps even more impressive than this bravery, was the initiative taken by Egyptians in the face of uncertainty and potential chaos. When the police were ordered by the Interior Ministry to disappear from the streets after three days of solid protest, Egyptians banded together to protect their neighbourhoods and their property. As it was realised that the protests would not stop until the demands of demonstrators were met, citizens began dealing with essential services. Every morning in Tahrir Square, groups of protesters went out and picked up rubbish. Some say that the square never looked so clean as it has done during these last few weeks.

When violence erupted – very likely at the hands of secret police and hired thugs – people worked to set up makeshift hospitals in downtown mosques. They ensured that protesters were fed and had access to water and medicine. Mobile phone charging stations were set up at point throughout Tahrir Square so that people could stay in contact once the communications networks came back online. Even during the communications blackout, Egyptians did what they do remarkably well and communicated and disseminated information via an informal network of people on the ground. One blogger commented that this revolution only worked because Egyptians are the original social networkers, with or without an internet.

Of course, I am focusing on what occurred in Cairo. Similar things happened in Alexandria and elsewhere. My friends in Alexandria guarded their neighbourhoods just as we saw in our usually quiet suburban neighbourhood south of Cairo. Roadblocks were stationed up and down the streets and at every intersection. Men and boys were armed with lengths of pipe and sticks (and in some cases swords, golf clubs and bike helmets). Protesters in Tahrir Square began checking their fellow Egyptians for weapons and identification in an attempt to keep away those who would have undermined the protests by turning them into violent street riots.

This revolution, and that is what it is, did not occur without casualties. Three hundred were killed, most from head injuries caused by rocks or other blunt objects. Over a thousand were injured. Property was destroyed, shops were looted, cars and trucks burned. The Egyptian economy was damaged severely. Tourism will take some time to recover to its previous levels.

With any luck, once the celebrations have settled a little (though not the celebratory spirit), Egypt will be able to rebuild their country with the same sense of community and initiative exemplified throughout the last several weeks. The Supreme Council of the Armed Forces has made it very clear that it cannot be a substitute for a democratically elected government of the people of Egypt. Egyptians are in the unique position of having forced a corrupt, illegitimate dictator and his cronies out of power not by force, but by making their demands known and holding their ground until those demands were met. The role of the military in what occurred is still a bit unclear, but it would appear that the Supreme Council had grown tired of the machinations of a dying regime and decided to end it.

On Thursday, Minister of Defence Mohamed Tantawi was actually out in the city talking to demonstrators. Representatives of the military made statements that the demonstrators would “have all their demands met”. All the more reason for protesters’ anger, sadness, and confusion when Mubarak stood up to make his final deluded address to the Egyptian people that night in which he asserted that he would not be stepping down until the next election. The scene was almost surreal. But then when Suleiman made the abdication announcement the next day on behalf of Mubarak, the pendulum of emotion swung the other way. The strength of emotion then released evinced what had fuelled the public for the duration of the eighteen day protest. It can only be hoped that this emotion will continue to fuel Egypt, for the next few months and years of reform and reconstruction.

The coming phase of Egypt’s revolution will be an interesting and difficult one. The most visible part was completed with the ousting of the totalitarian regime, but the people will need now to monitor that the existing entrenched bureaucracy and the military do not exercise undue influence over the process of arranging and conducting fair and open elections. Egypt has a bright future ahead and has demonstrated, like Tunisia before it, that real revolution is possible in the Middle East. Let us hope that those international powers with an interest in the region do not interfere with genuine democracy, as they have done in the past. Barring this threat, there appear blissfully few barricades across the road of Egypt’s future, something which anyone who has ever driven in Cairo would gladly welcome.

*’Fi-l-mishmish’ is an abbreviation of ‘bokra fi-l-mishmish’ (‘Apricots tomorrow’). It is an expression generally used to demonstrate disbelief that something will occur, not unlike ‘when pigs fly’.

Hi guys,

I just wanted to let our families and close friends know that we are alright in case you had caught the news and were worried about us.

There were widespread protest demonstrations in Cairo yesterday and in about 10 other cities as well. They have continued tonight, but on a smaller scale. There was a good deal of violence at one point late in the evening yesterday when the police finally decided to clear out the occupied areas. Tear-gas, water cannons and rubber bullets were all used. There were no live rounds fired. There have been several deaths and in Cairo about 250 people were injured and are now hospitalized. This could well be the beginning of something huge here, not unlike what happened in Tunisia. There are reports of rumors coming in that the son of the President (and his perceived successor) has left the country and is presently in London. It is rumored that the First Lady has also left. These reports have been vehemently denied by the American Embassy and should probably be considered unlikely to have actually occurred.

It will be interesting to watch how the situation progresses, but it will be unlikely to cause any problems for us. This seems so far to be a primarily secular popular revolt instead of one lead by the Muslim Brotherhood or other politico-religious groups. It is unclear where exactly the organization is coming from though. The protesters are regular, working-class people seeking governmental reform and measures to relieve the grinding poverty that Egypt is experiencing.

Social media sites and some news sites are being blocked variously throughout the country. Twitter confirmed earlier that they were in fact blocked yesterday. People are using external proxies in order to circumvent the internet blockades and communicate with each other. This will likely lead to stronger measures undertaken to control the flow of information both to news outlets and to those involved in the demonstrations. There are rumors that mobile phone service is being cut off for known activists. There were reports last evening that mobile services were cut off in Tahrir Square in central Cairo.

We are quite safe at present in Maadi (a southern suburb/district of Cairo). The part of the city we live in is far from the action, and the likelihood of anything happening in this particular suburb/district is low considering that it is inhabited primarily by wealthier folks and expatriates. Regardless, we’re keeping our eyes and ears open and making only leaving the house when absolutely necessary. Some of our more foolhardy friends are headed downtown regularly to scope out what is happening. They are brave, but perhaps a little foolish. It is understandable though. This is an exciting time here.

I am paying pretty close attention to what is happening and I will keep all of you informed in the case that the situation changes, possibly necessitating our evacuation. In that extremely unlikely scenario, our plan is to catch whatever flight is available to somewhere in Europe and then regroup and figure out what to do next. We will be extremely grateful to our friends in the EU if they will be willing to take in refugees at such a time as it becomes a necessity.

A DISCLAIMER: None of the information contained in this letter is original research or journalism. All of this has been gleaned from online news sources over the last two days. This is a letter to friends and family who are concerned about my safety and the safety of my friends in Cairo. I have been told that the international news reports on the situation here are confusing and convoluted. This digest is meant to clarify the situation for my loved ones back home. Please do not regard this as some sort of news report, which it is not.

Love, JM

My friend and colleague Amanda Propst wrote a brilliant limerick this evening about the 6th Fatimid Caliph al-Hakim. He is the clear front-runner in my in my list of favorite historical figures. Amanda mentions in her introduction the the poem that he is probably in hiding. What she forgot to mention, though, is that he is perhaps also a vampire. Only time will tell.

Enjoy the limerick.

http://amandapropst.com/2010/12/14/al-hakim-limerick/

Day 5

[UPDATE 25 August 2010: I have added photos and a slideshow of the sunrise. Enjoy.]

I got up at ten to six this morning. I just happened to wake up really early and then realized that the sun might have not risen yet. It was light out, but when I checked on my phone, I found that sunrise would not occur for another twenty minutes or so. I dragged myself out of bed and went up on the roof to watch. It was beautiful. Dr. Arafa said there were two times here that one should not miss: sunrise and sunset. He was not wrong.

Here is what I saw, sort of:

Sunrise in Basaisa, 5 August 2010 [AVI]

I got a bunch of work done after sunrise since no one else would wake for several hours. It was pretty good morning.

Dr. Arafa had to leave this morning again. He is a busy guy. After seeing the way we handled being left on our own in charge of the workshop the other day, though, he told us that he felt that it was in capable hands. Jeff spent the morning doing a free-association exercise with the kids. He put together a slide-show and then asked them to write down words and descriptions that occurred to them when they saw the images. I came into the room just as they were going back through the pictures telling the class what they had written. Free-association brings up interesting stuff. One girl, Gehad, described a picture of an American/English style house as “classic.” Where she got “classic” or why she would choose to associate it with that style of structure—which is unknown here—is beyond me. Probably movies or TV.

We took a break and then the students came back to review for a final assessment later in the afternoon. The plan was to have them all around for the afternoon and then take a break and administer a final evaluation after which we would take a break. After the break we would come back and hand out certificates and dismiss.

Of course that didn’t work out. Several students needed to leave a bit early and were unsure if they could come back or not. One told me it was because something terrible had happened at home. I didn’t press him on it. So we administered the test a little early to 5 of the students. Then there was the matter of the certificates. We wanted everyone in pictures, so we did the presentation of certificates before half of the students had taken the assessment, explaining that we were reversing the order of events now. They rolled with it. Everyone smiled and took pictures and then the rest sat their exam.

They did well. When we looked through their answers it was clear that they have all made progress throughout the week. The biggest hurdle we had was simply getting everyone to be less shy. By this point we have jumped it. A few were asking if we would play soccer with them this evening. Others actuallywanted to come and sit with us and learn some more words and have a chat in the evening. Perfectly fine by me.

Tomorrow morning we are all going to the beach in Ras Sidr and then Jeff and I are getting on a bus to head back to Cairo. I kind of dread returning to Cairo. I also have a ton of work to do there; there is an apartment to move into and a thesis to research. Also—and I can’t believe this as I am writing it—I am gasping for an ice cold Stella. It’s pretty dry out here in the desert.

Day 4

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

Jeff wanted to discuss development with the kids today. I really didn’t know how to go about this, so I let him have at it. He decided to start—I’m not joking here—with a listen and read the lyrics exercise involving Jack Johnson’s “The 3 R’s” from the Curious George soundtrack. I was skeptical. It’s a pretty weird song. The guy obviously wrote it while stoned—he’s a frigging surfer turned songwriter; of course he is stoned—and the lyrics are pretty confusing and convoluted. There is all this math and then somehow we are discussing recycling? The song ends with the singing of a bunch of numbers? Really weird.

‘Reduce,’ ‘Reuse’ and ‘Recycle’ were the only three words that EVERY one of the students would remember on their final assessment the next day. Well done Jeff.

The day continued quite pleasantly. Dr. Arafa returned from Cairo and surveyed the progress. We continued to make spreadsheets of vocabulary words, which everyone seemed excited about—as this activity would provide a list for them to use as a reference for studying.

In the afternoon, pursuant to our chosen theme of the day, Jeff had the students decide on what sort of things that they would like to see in the future in New Basaisa. He used the map that the girls drew the other day as a base and had them draw new buildings and features on pieces of paper which they then tacked on the map in place. These included such frivolities as a hospital and a police station and such necessities as a night club and a cinema on the beach. It got everyone thinking forward though.

Meanwhile, I compiled their vocabulary lists and printed them. Immediately after distributing the lists, I was told, by everyone, that there were wrong translations, wrong words. I explained to them that these were not lists that I made myself, but rather the compilation of all of their lists. It took a few times explaining what I meant before they figured out that if there were mistakes, they belonged to the authors, and it was up to the authors to correct them. They proceeded to do so, collaboratively, arguing over words here and there. Eventually they came up with a decent list of errata which they shared between them.

After the students left we sat around and worked, preparing for the last day of the workshop, waiting for the sun to get a bit lower in the sky. Dr. Arafa wanted to take us on a walk to the beach. Behind the village, there is an expanse of planted olive and palm grove with several wells dug in it. Beyond that, he told us, there was an expanse of dunes and virgin beach.

So around six we began walking west. The groves are really pretty, even when they are out of season. The olives are coming into season shortly and we could see fruit starting to sprout on the branches. I hadn’t realized until this week that olives don’t flower. There are just buds and then suddenly olives are growing on the branches. Dr. Arafa and several of kids confirmed this. Odd plants that grow in the desert.

When we got to the edge of the dunes it was like stepping onto another planet. I realized that I have never really seen virgin beach before in my life. I have been around a lot of dunes, but they are mostly in preservation areas in the States where they have been destroyed to some extent. This was unreal. Like some alien landscape.

The scrubby bushes and tall grass were well rooted causing great huge hills and hollows in between. There were all sorts of animal tracks in the sand: some kinds of lizard, dogs, a few that I couldn’t recognize. The tracks that most interested me were the snake. They were everywhere. Snakes are apparently pretty busy when there aren’t folks around. Based on the size of some of the tracks, I was not particularly interested in coming across their makers.

We finally crested the last dune and came to the tide plain. It was like nothing I have ever seen. There were shells and pieces of dead coral everywhere. The reef is quite deep here, so the and the sea floor are quite bare and sandy for a long way. It is great for swimming: I’ve never been a big fan of reefs because I don’t tend to like the way that you have swim near them. This was ideal for my aquatic tastes.

Beyond the beach we could see ships approaching the mouth of the canal to the north. On either side of us a kilometer away, there were settlements or developments that went right up to the beach. Compared to where we were standing, they were ugly concrete boxes. They looked out of place.

We walked back into the village just as the sun set and wandered by a few more wells and were shown the site of a future desalination plant right in the middle of the tiny settlement. The walk to the beach and back was not an easy one, given the terrain, but it was a good time and place to be. I have seldom seen more interesting and beautiful natural places here.

Day 3

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

Dr. Arafa was summoned back to Cairo last night so today’s lessons fell entirely on me and Jeff. We decided that it would be community day, so we wrote a fictitious letter from our friend Mike in the States to the kids here telling them about his community and asking about theirs. We then decided that their homework tonight will be to write a letter to our real friend Mike Creager, which we will bundle up and send to him. It will be amusing when Creager gets a bunch of letters from kids in Sinai, unexpectedly.

We learned how to use spreadsheets in the afternoon and everyone put their vocabulary words into a spreadsheet in two languages. The kids were pretty excited about this for studying purposes. My hope is that they will continue to employ this method in the future. It always helped me remember vocabulary words. Sometimes the act of just writing the words next to each other is enough to help retain them.

In the afternoon we asked everyone to collectively draw a map for us. Everyone was a little sheepish about drawing except for Shaykh Mubarak the Bedouin. He was a pretty fair cartographer, though almost completely disregarded the roads, save a few of the more obvious ones, preferring to just draw landmarks and houses with spaces in between. The kids would call out stuff and he would place it on the map. Good exercise for everyone.

After the mapping, we asked the kids to take us out and show us where everything was, so they did. The three girls mysteriously stayed behind; more on that later. We walked out toward the sea where most of the houses are concentrated. Everyone pointed out their houses along the way, and the houses of others. Moamen brought lemons out from his house for us. We stopped at Ahmed’s house for a water break. Mohamed showed us his family’s house near the mosque. Then we walked to the well on Hamed’s father’s land.

This was a good thing, because this morning we had a hell of a time getting everyone to talk about the wells. No one would say the word for well. We discussed the mechanics of irrigation yesterday at length, but this morning we were back to being told either that the water came from a pipe or—in the Delta—from a canal originating at the Nile. The visit to the well finally drove it home.

Then we walked through the fields and ate dates right off the palms. I have never liked dates at all. Eating them fresh, right from the palm makes all the difference. These were amazing. The olives were ripening as well. Apparently they will be ready for harvesting and pressing into oil later in the year.

The walk was a fun time. We got to see the community and its surroundings a bit closer. The place has even more personality now. These kids are really, really proud of what they and their families have here. They are not wealthy, but that is meaningless. Here they have a different kind of wealth: equity. They have houses and land to farm, crops that are suited to the environment that they are in. They have means to make happen what they need to and they are open to modes of doing all of this that are unorthodox in this part of the world.

I have been having a hard time figuring out what comes first. I don’t know if their surroundings and this community make these kids so enthusiastic and eager or if everyone here is enthusiastic and eager and that makes the community what it is. It’s a chicken and egg problem, but it doesn’t really matter. It is what it is.

And there we are. Jeff and I are sitting here in the main building with the kitchen listening to Dave Matthews Band and Creedence Clearwater Revival creating tomorrow’s lesson and I couldn’t be happier. This is exactly the kind of vacation I needed: a not-vacation. We’re working like dogs and loving every minute of it. I hate the regular, sit-around-and-do-nothing vacations. I’m always bored and feel useless. I always take work with me and never get anything done because I am in sitting-on-my-ass mode. Here I am actually getting some work done in the evenings for myself on top of what we are doing during the day and in preparation for the next day. I can’t ask for better than that.

Day 2

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

Today is food and agriculture day.

They grow olives, date palms and jojoba here, all of which are particularly well-suited to the climate and soil—which is hot as hell and dry as a bone. Crops can be raised with little water and they are relatively saline-tolerant, which means that they don’t have too much trouble with the very salty water that comes from the shallow wells. The wells tap into the sea-water table about a kilometer inland and provide most of the water needed for irrigation. We talked this morning about putting together a grey-water system that would collect water from sink-drains and store it to be used when needed. Dr. Arafa was pretty excited about the idea and wants to introduce it to the kids.

Since this is a farming community, Jeff and I decided that it is probably a good idea that everyone know how to discuss their surroundings and what they do here. Being other than farmers, we are unsure about how to go about this. I thought that perhaps even a cursory discussion of what different types of farming is like in different places. We’ll talk about different crops and where they grow, soil types, irrigation methods and needs. Oddly enough, though not a farmer, I have spent a good deal of time on and around them. I love irrigation systems; probably more than is reasonable, considering. Perhaps this will be an advantage in attempting to construct a lesson around this concept. Hopefully this will work and bring the global perspectives angle in, which Dr. Arafa likes to incorporate.

Speaking of food and agriculture: I am not as hungry here. In Cairo, we are being continuously blasted by air-conditioning. I think that this has made my body think that we are preparing for winter, given the amount of times a day that I feel peckish. I will have to rectify this upon our return. I prefer this way of being. We have been eating a little bit in the morning with some tea and then something substantial in the late afternoon. In the evening we usually take a snack. I like it. Preferably my body likes it as well and will drop a few of the resentful kilos it is carrying around these days.

My favorite part about being out here—aside from great students, beautiful surroundings, fresh air, forward-thinking community, etc.—is that I am tired at the end of the night. Also the quiet. The two are not unrelated. Even in the most pleasant places in Cairo, I have only tricked myself into believing that they are in any way quiet. If I sit and make my mind quiet in Cairo—anywhere—I immediately hear the sounds of distant traffic, bicycle bells, a whistle, someone shouting, honking horns, etc. These things are impossible to escape there.

I have just moved from Mohandiseen to Maadi, and though I have high hopes that my new flat will be very peaceful, I know better. Maadi is terrifically quieter than Mohandiseen or downtown. I hadn’t realized just how utterly mind-bendingly loud my old flat was until leaving it. The noise of traffic on my street went on all night. Even though the bedroom was twenty or more meters from the street, the sound was still deafening compared with the new place. The problem is that now I apparently have a new standard for quiet. This place is simply amazing. It is not silent, of course: the wind is all but constant once the air begins to cool at night, but that is a different kind of sound altogether, and not a disturbing one.

The accommodations on-site are not bad either. They have constructed a sort of dormitory, with ample room to bunk about sixteen. There are plans to expand it further to house even more. It will be an excellent place for guest instructors to come and stay. Presently, it is quite comfortable. It is still a bit rustic, though the accommodations are modern. It reminds to some extent though me of living in a barn one summer in France. All of the students slept in bunks on a sort of mezzanine in a converted barn. This sort of living is a couple of steps up from camping. Big steps. I hate camping. This, I like.

Also, I may have to play soccer tonight with some of the kids. This should be interesting, as I have not played soccer since I was their age, which is approximately half my life ago, which is terrifying. If it is not so hot that I will die of heat-stroke, we will go ahead with this plan. Otherwise, it may be postponed until tomorrow.

[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.