DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

A few weeks ago, a couple of us went to an Arabic language learning center nearby, where professor Lo was giving a lecture/seminar on teaching Arabic in America, and more specifically on teaching Arabic to Americans. Unfortunately, because the entire presentation was in Arabic, I was not able to fully understand the whole thing, but I think I got most of the main ideas.
 

An important point of his presentation, was that he stressed the heavy weight of cultural differences between students and teachers, and the importance of understanding and accepting those differences (well, at least that’s what I gathered from what I was able to understand). I heard the words “life”, “liberty”, and “the pursuit of happiness” a number of times, as well as a mention of the events of 9/11 and the subsequently changing views of the American public. We, as American students learning in Cairo, have personally experienced the consequences of these cultural differences. In our own language learning program, we have encountered teachers that have very different ideas about what is polite, what is appropriate, and what is politically correct. It has been hard for us all to get accustomed to their abrupt and seemingly rude way of addressing personal issues (such as religion, politics, money, etc.); it has been just as hard for them to understand the way in which American students (well, I guess Duke students, more specifically) relate and interact with teacher-figures. They have never before been told they were wrong by a student and similarly, we have never before been asked about how much money our parents make in the middle of class. Professor Lo did a great job of conveying the importance of being tolerant of the other culture and how that is the only way to have a successful experience.
 

Professor Lo also talked about class level structure and what skills should be mastered by the students of each of the levels. He also addressed the question of what materials are most useful and appropriate, and which Arabic textbook is the best for foreign learners. One of the biggest differences from book to book is the focus on fus’ha (modern standard Arabic) and aamiyya (colloquial Arabic, in this case, Egyptian dialect). The book that Professor Lo teaches with (the textbook we use at Duke) teaches almost solely fus’ha, with maybe just a slight mention of aamiyya. Professor Lo and some of the other teachers in the room agreed that it was most appropriate to teach foreigners fus’ha because it is what is used in the newspaper, in news broadcasts and any official document. Also, fus’ha is common to all the nations of the Arab world. One of the teachers, however, insisted that it was just important to learn fus’ha, especially if the foreign students were studying in Egypt, which happens to be our situation. She truly stated that most of the Egyptian public does not speak fus’ha, which is the case in most other countries as well, where they mostly speak their own aamiyya. She said that if students want to be able to speak to the people and develop better conversational skills, they should learn aamiyya as well (along with fus’ha). The battle started with comments about both aspects of the language and the advantages of learning each. I personally am glad to be learning fus’ha—I want to eventually be able to travel the entire Arab world, not just converse with the people of Egypt. I figure that, with fus’ha, I’ll be able to at least converse with all those that have had some extent of formal schooling as well as all those that are able to read and understand the Quran. Also, the aamiyya of some countries is very similar to fus’ha, which would allow me to speak freely (well to the extent of my limited Arabic skills) with almost everyone and anyone. I also want to be able to read and listen to Arabic news etc, all of which is in fus’ha. I am afraid that if I were to attempt to learn aamiyya as well, I would mix the two and not have the formal style and understanding that I think is necessary to fully understand the overall religious and cultural beliefs of the Middle East.
 

Anyway, final score of the dialect battle—fus’ha: 9, aamiyaa: 1.
 

In the last two days, we have had the chance to see two landmark institutions in the Arab world. First, was Al-Azhar, one of the oldest documented universities in the world and the oldest in the Arab world. Much of their teachings are based on the Quran, and it is both a very conservative and religions institution. During our visit, we were required to be covered almost completely and veiled. For those of us that did not have appropriate clothing were given a robe to wear over our clothes. Within the beautiful walls of the university are a library, prayer rooms, and designated sections for students of different nationalities. Contributing even more to the conservative image of the university is that many of the prayer rooms are segregated by gender, shoes are not allowed to be worn anywhere on the grounds, and only Muslim students can be found enrolled.

In terms of physical appearance, the campus’ architecture is amazing and beautifully ethnic. Calligraphy covers the domed ceilings and after climbing a pitch-black stone staircase, we were able to fully see the sculptured towers and the unending desert in the background. Al-Azhar is still a popular university today, with many students from all over the world.

Today, we had the opportunity of touring a very different type of academic institution. Cairo University, the first modern university in the Arab world, is just as impressive, but in a very different way. With 60,000 undergratuates, the campus is busy, even during summer vacation. The students here are also from all over the world, and one of the institution’s most prestigious schools is its graduate school for economics and political science.

The campus consists of buildings from its original establishment 100 years ago as well as new departments constructed only months ago. Although classes are taught in Arabic, the students and faculty members that we met all seemed to know at least some English.

It was unbelievable that two universities in the same city can be so different from each other. While at one we sat barefoot with the Sheikh who explained the religious foundation of the university, we contributed to a panel discussion on US politics at the other. While one campus consisted of open air prayer rooms and a tomb, the other housed air-conditioned lecture halls and specific testing centers. Even more interesting than the differences though, is that both play equally important roles in Arab society. Al-Azhar is still an influential authority figure both on subjects of Islam and other aspects of the surrounding social area. Cairo University is one of the most prestigious schools in the area and attracts intellectuals from all over the world.

The two institutions seem to represent two of the many sides of Cairo in a way. On one side is this modern, advanced city, the most populated region in all of Africa and the Middle East, and on the other is one of the centers of the historical and traditional Islamic world. This difference can also be seen and represented in many other aspects of Cairo, including everything from food to modes of transportation, but this is one of the ones that stood out most explicitly. I feel that this broad spectrum, however, adds to the city’s appeal, and I never cease to be amazed.
 

Al-Cahira! Cairo is a big, busy city with lots of people and there seems to always be something going on. People never have the chance to be alone—well, almost never.

Al- Ebnati, is an all-girls orphanage in the outskirts of Cairo. I have never seen a more endearing and friendly group of kids anywhere. They sang to us, showed us their rooms, and even taught us a little Arabic. They all do excellently in school, and in their spare time, they help make carpets, towels, and blankets to sell in an effort to encourage one of the institution’s only means of income.

How could anyone not have the overwhelming urge to love, and get to know these girls? But Malak, whose grandmother founded the orphanage, told us that female orphans in the Middle East have an extremely difficult time being adopted. I wondered, is it an issue of blood relations, in terms of lineage? Is it that most Egyptian families are fairly large to begin with? Is Cairo too crowded of a city for larger households?

Female orphans in Arab countries are not often adopted by families primarily because of the fact that, if adopted, they would be females that live with other families. But isn’t that the point of adoption? The real problem is that these girls would be living in houses with men to whom they are not related. Such a situation would not be condoned in this society, causing problems for both the family and the child.

I am aware of and now familiar with the male-female interaction norms here in the Middle East and that they are significantly stricter and more conservative than those of many other communities in the world. However, I did not realize that they had the potential to keep a little girl from a having a family. Although it seems kind of crazy to us, it’s readily accepted here and is an idea that is an important component of their religion and culture. And even though we are from a very different type of society, I am proud to say that our DukeEngage group has made a conscious effort to respect and follow these social rules, especially those relating to gender. It’s been a little difficult at times, and I know that I for one sometimes forget little things but overall, I think it’s been fairly successful.

More than by their having an issue with a female living in a house with unrelated men, I was surprised and somewhat unsettled by the fact that some people, in this culture, do not consider adopted children actual family. I have never personally encountered a family that did not accept an adopted child as their own; I assumed that the child became a relative. If such is the case, the original, above-mentioned situation would not even be an issue.

There are hundreds and hundreds of cultural differences between different regions around the world and so to describe just one of them doesn’t really do justice to the uniqueness of the society in which we are in. Still, this one difference can have such an impact, on both me and the people involved—in this case, bright, young girls looking for a home. Considering that I have only been here for less than a week, I both hope to and expect to learn many more differences and to better understand the Middle East.