Marilyn Shapley (Egypt, 2005-06)

“I have commuted between the world’s capitals:
Travel is no longer an achievement;
I must begin to do meaningful things.”

Dennis Brutus, I Have Commuted between the World’s Capitals

Thank God there are writers like Dennis Brutus to express the words bottled up inside as I try to describe what this year has meant to me. I know I expected more than just the stereotypical picture by the Sphinx with the pyramids in the background, but I greatly underestimated what I would take away from Cairo.

I’ve taken the hardest classes of my life, and I didn’t collapse. I discovered toilet paper is a privilege, not a right. I found out talking slowly and loudly will not improve my communication skills. I now have a friend to stay with in a lot more countries around the world. I can almost speak Arabic. I can pretend to know a little about refugee issues. I can even shake my hips like a belly dancer if Nancy Egram (an Egyptian singer) comes on the radio.

But, as important and memorable as these things are, they are not the greatest thing I take from my time in Cairo. What I really learned here is how little I know about the world. My dreams have grown exponentially since coming here, and not just in terms of where I picture myself traveling in the future. Being here has forced me to look at my plans for my education, job, even the friends I want to have, and the bar has been raised higher than it was before. I will take back a humble, hardworking spirit. It is a spirit that discovered the world is as big or small as I want it to be, and now I will reach for the stars and not just the sky. “I must begin to do meaningful things.”

Julia Carter (Egypt, 2002-03)

One of my most vivid memories of my year abroad in Egypt came on my very first day in the country. My plane had arrived in Cairo, seemingly wending its way through dozens of minarets, touching down amidst the shimmering heat and dust. Immediately I was swept into dealing with luggage, passport control, customs, and the choking traffic. I finally arrived at my dorm in the quiet, shady neighborhood of Zamalek and I sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by suitcases. I remember that moment, sitting in the cool quiet, and the one thought that ran through my mind: “What in the world have I done?”

Looking back now, more than three years later, I know the answer to that question. That year in Cairo ignited an interest in the Middle East that is still an important part of my life. It widened my perspective to an extent that I hadn’t even known was possible. It humanized a part of the world that is routinely dehumanized in the media and in politics. It gave me a sense of self that continues to be a touchstone for me, and the knowledge that I can handle just about anything that comes my way. It introduced me to the amazing depths of hospitality, generosity, and humor that exist amongst a people. Last but certainly not least, it allowed me to perfect my hummus recipe. I am not a wildly different person because of that year, but I do think I am a more sensitive, courageous, perceptive, and, ultimately, a better person because of my experiences in Egypt.