Cairo diary: 14/17

Spring break is getting closer by the second. And so is the desperate need for a break. The books seems to get duller by the day, the articles more complicated. The library seems noisier and the classes longer. And, as a result of this, the approaches to learning tend to become stranger and stranger. Today we hit a new high, or low - depending if the one who's judging is myself or my professor. 

This is what we look like in a Oreo and chocolate-provoked learning frenzy. We're charming. And we are without a doubt building up a really good image among the Egyptian students. "Use your head", they told me when I was younger. Well, now I've got scientific proof: that stuff doesn't work a bit better than reading.

Cairo diary: 13/17

One of the classes I'm taking at AUC is a development class.  It deals with economies. It talks about the big overarching theories of change and growth, decline and war. And it is as far away as possible from the sociology I usually study, to put it mildly. And yet, it's one of my favorite classes. I'm confused, my English tends to wither up and die during class and I'm always frowning and frantically trying to scribble down what my professor is attempting to teach me. Great, huh?

Well, today it got even better. Why? Well, we went on a field trip so visit a feminist NGO working with micro-financing and women's empowerment, in addition to visiting the offices of USAID. Due to security restrictions, were not allowed to visit the slums we had intended to, which was one of the things I'd been looking forward to, seeing as I also visited some micro-finance clients in Kenya and Sri Lanka when I was there. I was really eager to see how people in Egypt had approached that kind of assistance, but that'll just have to wait for now.

Visiting both the organizations in one day allowed us to see a lot of the contrasts that can be found within such institutions dealing with development. One invited us for tea and a chat with its micro-loan clients, while the other talked about American tax payers desire to see their money show visible results. One was located within a semi-worn concrete building in the middle of a noisy Cairo neighborhood, while the other rested like a fortress  outside of the core of the city itself. And while one dealt with development from the perspective of one woman here and one family there, the other talked about millions in financing of grand projects and visions.

Evaluating everything we talked about and learned during the day would be enough for an essay or two, so I think I'll let that rest for now, unless there's someone dying to know more. But I had a really educative day, I'll tell you that. I've seen the grass root level and I've seen the offices where the money's at. And the fact that they in theory both deal with the same thing - development - is strange, and awfully, awfully interesting.

Cairo diary: 8/17

Sunshine's been hugging Cairo like it's been reunited for the first in a long time. And that's sort of how it is. Lately the city's been changing between sunlight bursting out of the sky, to days that made Norway appear tempting again. (Don't take me too seriously on that point, I've been running away from the Norwegian winter for several years now.) But today, today the sky was blue, the trees seemed greener and life in general seemed.. great.

After jumping around in my classroom, repeating "professor, professor, I love the sun, please!", I managed to persuade my wonderful, wonderful Arabic teacher to move the class out of the building and into the sun. And let me tell you this - I think I'm a better learner when I'm outside of the constricting walls of the university. Might be the vitamin Ds, might be the temperature. Or it just might be the fact that I came directly from a mid-term where I just breezed through the pillars of Islam and the collection of the Qur'an. You know what's even better? Tomorrow's Friday - time for the Egyptian weekend!

Cairo diary: 6/17

Mid-terms tomorrow. Not one, that would've been too easy. But two. And a little Arabic dictation sprinkled on top. At least I have the technology on my side - digital flashcards! I'm brilliant! (If the animation makes you dizzy, keep in mind that I've been glaring at these words all day. All. Day.)

I'll go back to my verbs now. And conjugate them like a boss.

Cairo diary 1/17

I've decided to give myself a little challenge, in order to not forget blogging as I'm running around in Cairo. I don't want to overdo it though. Therefore, I've decided to try to post one picture each of the remaining days this month, using whatever camera I find. Like a little photo dairy that'll be nice to look back on when I'm back in the lush woods of Scandinavia. So, what am I up to today, in this dynamic country of revolution and change, this land of ancient history and pharaohs? Homework. Good thing I know how to say "I live in the library" in Arabic.

A motivating Arabic plague

I start every day with Arabic class; each and every morning is saluted at 8.30 with Arabic stuttering and a cup of coffee black as a Norwegian winter. I'm not good at it, it's not going fast, but it's okay. In addition to the morning class, which focuses on Egyptian spoken dialect (which I'm awful at), I also take a class in modern standard Arabic. The formal stuff. Which I love! I have the most amazing, supporting and motivating professor, and her enthusiasm is contagious like a plague. A happy, motivated, Arabic plague of conjugations and pronouns, plurals and shaky handwriting.

Birthday time!

 

I'm old! Or, well. I'm older. Yesterday was my birthday, a day filled with pyramids, red wine, the former prime minister of Norway and a speeding taxi on the highway in Cairo. Quite the combination, huh? Other than that, I'm preparing for a busy time ahead. Mid-terms are coming up, and I'm lost in a sea of development theories and Arabic, feminism and studies of Islam. 

The whole concept of mid-terms is not something I've encountered on my home university back in Norway, so I'm somewhat confused about what I'm expected to know, to do and to understand by now. But as I realized the other day, my goal this semester has sort of changed from "I'm going to do this, and I'll do it well!" to "I'm just going to do this!". Do I mind? Nah. I'm in Egypt for God's sake. Living in Cairo. That's enough for me.

Hectic tick tock

Compared to my previous university, student life in Cairo offers quite a different beat and rhythm. The readings are longer, the classes more frequent and the days more hectic. The grasp of the Egyptian winter is still squeezing on Cairo as well, so in the end it's not a surprise that my body decided that a little break would be very much welcome. And when my body wants a break, it simply takes one.

So, after a night of fever and shivers, there was just not a single cell in my body that was eager to attend the Arabic morning class that I start most days with. Somewhat dizzy in my haze of paracetamol and coughing, I decided to check out the medical center of AUC. And man, welcome to the services of a private university. Within an hour, I'd been examined, handed a bag of medications in all kinds of bottles and pills, and found myself on a bus back to my part of Cairo. The security guards at the entrance did not support my plan to take a taxi across the Egyptian capital - "oh, not safe madam, please not" - so after a few minutes of jogging around, they found me a bus. Yes, I got my own bus, just me and my smiling driver.

And now, now I'm just sitting here, as a ball of blankets, pills and tea. Got my fingers crossed for a calm weekend, insha'allah.

Exchange

Exchange student. I want to be one. So bad. Ever since I started looking at various university subjects, the exchange semester has always felt.. important to me. And if I'm leaving my own home, driven by the academic ways of the world, I sure as hell want to have something to exchange as well. Sure, Norwegian culture has a lot of quirks that solemnly belong to us mountain and forest folks. But leaving for a European country has never tempted me. It's not different enough, it's not tempting enough, it's not.. what I've been looking for.

I've been dead sure that Japan was my dream country, up until a few weeks ago. Reflecting and thinking things over thoroughly feels like such a bad thing. The ability to think seems like the shittiest tool given to mankind, at times like these. I was, at least, sure that Asia was my part of the world. I'm not even sure about that anymore. The deadline for applying to various universities abroad is the middle of September. That's damn close, when you think about it. All I know, is that I want to go. But where?

Uh-huh, oh yeah, uh-huh

Three weeks ago I went through a gruesome, horrible and stressful exam, and ever since that day I've hated how I chose to solve the damn thing. Well, apparently I've got no clue on how to judge my own performance. Because it went awesome! And all I can do is giggle and dance and jump around.


I'm awfully sorry for being one of those "I'm so awesome, all hail me"-kids. Won't do it again. But now, I'm so happy I'm just gonna daaaance!

The holy trinity

Coffee, sugar, music - the holy trinity of goodness that I'll be leaning on this last night. I've fought Karl Marx, I've wrestled the theories of postmodern media consumption; my neck is sore after far too many hours spent in front of the computer screen, and my eyes are tired after scanning the screen for typos and funny words. I'm not pleased - I never am at this stage - but I'm almost there anyway.

Ah, student life. It's charming, in it's own bizarre, caffeine-infused, insomnic way.

Enter: three days of awesome

Good morning, beautiful people! The sun is up, my tea cup full and my heart beating like a black metal drum kit; today, I'm starting my first exam. Media- and culture theory - a three-day adventure of coffee, angst and writing. Or something closely related to that. During the next days I'll giggle, I'll cry, I'll shout and I'll crawl on the floor, of this I am sure. I will however, convince myself that I am in total control of the situation. This will be fantastic!

Please excuse me now, while I jump around my kitchen, enter the cool zone and do the awesome-dance like M.I.A.:

My plan is, if nothing else succeeds, to make a living by dancing like this around the university. Feed me coffee, and I'm up for it.

"On the contrary!"

At the moment I'm writing my essay in psychology,and trying to escape the incoming academic meltdown, I'm taking small breaks to creep around on wikipedia. There, I stumbled across the article on Henrik Ibsen. I've read it a few times before, and suddenly I realized why:

"On 23 May 1906, Ibsen died in his home at Arbins gade 1 in Christiania (now Oslo) after a series of strokes in March 1900. When, on 22 May, his nurse assured a visitor that he was a little better, Ibsen spluttered his last words "On the contrary" ("Tvertimod!"). He died the following day at 2:30 P.M."

You live your life writing plays that can't be said to just be about sugar, spice and everything nice, pointing at how things never were as good as they seemed. And then he goes down like that. Nice.

Åh, til dere som ikke helt skjønner hvordan dere endte opp her; jeg har fått overført alle mine bloglovin-følgere fra min forrige blogg, og over til denne. Håper det er greit for dere fine folk.

The anger and shouting and the pointing of fingers

Quite often, while glaring at the books and articles I'm supposed to read and even worse - understand, I find myself asking myself "Why the hell do I need to read this? How on earth is this ever relevant for my education?" Mentally I spit on the authors, I dig up their bodies and punch them really, really hard. And then two, maybe three months go by, and I realize I need everything I've read. In the back of my mind I feel Marx and the whole crew smirk at me, with the I-told-you-so-attitude painted all over them. And I grind my teeth, clench my fists and jump head first into another text I don't see the point of.

I swear, being a student could've given a corpse high blood-pressure.