When you don't know why you're here...

Sometimes you end up in places and you’re not sure how or why. Coming to Egypt was like that for me. 

Egypt has always intrigued me, but for some reason I never thought about moving here. That is, until, almost by accident, I travelled here for a little over a week in May. I had been living in Tunis and working as a journalist for over a year, and was supposed to be traveling to Egypt with my Tunisian friend. Plans fell through, as they often do, and suddenly I was going there alone, completely dependent on the hospitality and kindness of new Egyptian friends.

It turned out that Egypt was the perfect place to be when I needed to rely on others. With the help of my friends, I fell completely in love with the people, culture, history, and tempo of Egypt. While Tunisia is one of North Africa and the Middle East’s hidden oases, Egypt is the pulsing core. They are connected to everything: in history, trade and foreign relations. And Egyptians know it. I’ve never met a people so proud of their heritage and ready to share it. 

I went back to Tunisia to do a freelance project and continue searching for a full time job. When the “Rebel” movement happened in June, overthrowing Morsi and the Muslim Brotherhood from office, I was itching to be in Cairo, waiting by my phone to hear if everyone was safe. I couldn’t wait to get back, and in July I travelled there again, this time for a month. 

The month was a whirlwind. In Cairo there were curfew parties, late-night checkpoints, and long nights spent watching movies and playing games with friends, who kept me far away from danger. In Alexandria, I saw a different side of Egyptian life. At a local NGO, Christians and Muslims worked together at a mother and child daycare and training centre, offering up love into the lives of less fortunate. Then my friends and I escaped to another world in Sahel, the North Coast, which reminded me more of a Florida resort and beach party than Egypt. 

When I got back to Tunis, most of the people I loved there were gone- on holiday, or working somewhere else. The city felt empty and lifeless. I had been without full-time work for months, and I was getting desperate...and bored. It was time for me to move on. Within ten days, I had two job interviews scheduled, packed up my life, and got back on a plane headed to Cairo for the third time in four months, this time for good. Even now, almost four months later, my head is still spinning from how fast my life turned completely upside-down. 

I’m a journalist. At least, I thought I was until I found myself applying, interviewing for, and then accepting a job as an English teacher at an American Egyptian school. You see, it turns out that where I live became more important than how I make a living. Loving people and making a difference in the world became more important than my chosen method of doing so. 

I’ll be honest- I am often frustrated that I am not moving in the direction I wanted to in my career. By now I hoped to be heading up a field branch of an NGO communications team. I’ve worked long and hard to achieve this dream, and I am not sure why it always seems to be just beyond my reach. 

There is also the fact that living in North Africa has taken its toll. Life here happens on a different level than it does in Canada. In Canada I was never afraid that my friends would be killed or injured when they went to a protest. In Canada I didn’t work in a place where the cleaners could die if they got sick because they don’t make enough money for the doctor. In Canada life, joy, and sorrow happen much more quietly than here- and so relationships happen on a higher frequency in Egypt too. The arguments are tenser, the love is stronger, the feelings are deeper...and it can be exhausting. I’ve learned more about myself, about God, and about real love and sacrifice in the past four months than I have in four years. 

Enjoying the view over the Nile
Photo by Ahmed Badawi

I still don’t know why God led me to be a teacher in Egypt...or not led so much and pushed me over the ledge headfirst. But when a mother tells me that her little boy framed the birthday card I gave him, and told her, “Look Mom, a teacher finally likes me!”, the why becomes a lot less important. And when a father who has been frustrated with his son’s love of football...and not of school, watches his child perform in the winter play, then looks me in the eye and says, “Today, I was proud of him,” I forget to question whether I should be here or not. On days or nights I am the only who is there to listen to a friend, to show them love, and to tell them I am praying for them, I don’t care about my career goals. Because I know there is purpose in what I am doing.

Maybe I am not saving the world like I dreamed of. Not yet anyway. But I am saving a few kids who the world has already bashed around a bit- the ones whose fathers are leaving, who are new to school and can’t make friends, who have lost parents or friends or siblings. I am trying hard to make a difference in a country whose people will not be defeated. They are teaching me a little something about persistence, about loving even when you think you are too broken and have nothing left to give. And you don’t need God to tell you the whys, the hows, and the whens to know that that is a good thing. 

Nagata Syndrome

My generation lives in a world set on hyper-drive. We’ve grown up being sensitized to this...but is it distracting us from being able to focus long enough to accomplish anything?

Instead of being fed information, news is shoved down our throats and screamed at us. It is second nature to be on the cutting edge of technology, culture, and current affairs. A popular t-shirt slogan says “I listen to bands that don’t even exist yet”...and for many of my peers, this is almost true. Our society is, globally, increasingly interconnected through social media, so when injustice happens, we read, see or hear about it...and then our attention is immediately pulled somewhere else. It is overwhelming, but addicting.

Author Courtney Martin writes in Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters, “Always moving...We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible. We drink coffee. A lot of it...We are the daughters of feminists who said, ‘You can be anything,’ and we heard, ‘You must be everything.’”. She was writing about young women, but I would argue that much the same thing could be said of the young men I know.

Being everything means that we take on five projects at once, that we are interested in everything, that we find it difficult to say no to anything. And we continue to “find ourselves” over and over again, in new and different jobs, always looking for that one magical profession that will fulfill us. Often we think we have found it, only to be let down when it does not meet our expectations. So we move on, not sticking around long enough to stir the waters like we could, not long enough to realize our full potential.

Successful YouTuber Gunnarolla (Andrew Gunadie), also an alumnus of my alma mater, The University of Western Ontario, recently posted a video asking his viewers if it was worth him creating occasional videos. Between his two full-time social media jobs, Gunadie was losing time and passion for the medium that gained him fame to begin with. He said, “Yeah I have two jobs...My question to you is, is it worth trying to be a part time YouTuber? Why continue to make videos if you can’t be successful? To be honest YouTube is not really a creative outlet for me anymore.” Because he was no longer interested and available enough to create “good content,” Gunadie was questioning his involvement in what could be considered a third job.

I want to change the world. I’ve undertaken project after project, including volunteering, work experience, and two degrees towards that goal. I would hazard a guess that many people my age, regardless of their professional dreams, want to do the same in whatever field they are in, whether it’s entertainment, business, government or something in between. The problem is in deciding what that change will be, how we will craft it into something we can live off of, and then (and this may be the hardest) in sticking to it. Many of us find ourselves and our talents pulled in many different directions. And, being the ambitious, driven individuals we are, we often lose sleep rather than letting any one of our projects fail. If we do slip up, whether it is as small as a typo or something much more serious, we whine about how stretched thin we are...and do nothing to change it. This gives us incredible freedom in the possibilities, but carries costs, not the least of which is a lack of stability.


Enter Kai Nagata, the former CTV Quebec City Bureau Chief who, disillusioned with the business of broadcast news, recently quit his job. Nagata writes,

If storytelling turns out to be my true passion and the best use of my skills, then I'll continue down that path. If elder care, academia, agriculture, activism, art, education, Budo, or as-yet unforeseen pursuits turn out to make the flame burn brighter, I'll make the switch, or do them all...Right now I need to undertake a long-delayed journey of personal discovery. Having given away all the possessions that didn't fit into my truck, I've set out on the road again, heading West. I know I need to go home for a while. I need to surround myself with family and friends. I need to consult, meditate, and plan the next steps. I'm broke, and yet I know I'm rich in love. I'm unemployed and homeless, but I've never been more free. Everything is possible.

I identify with Nagata’s plight. He is a prime example of what has been called the “Peter Pan Generation,” for our refusal (or, if we are habitually unemployed, our inability) to grow up and don the mantle of a permanent job. He thought he had found something he could feel good about doing, and then discovered it was not for him. Regardless of whether or not his opinions on the business of news have merit, and despite the fact that many are shaking their heads at his Kerouac-like anti-career move, it took courage to follow his convictions. He, like so many of us, wants to make something of himself...or wants to make many things of himself.

I find myself in a similar soul-searching situation. But instead of looking at a myriad of interesting opportunities and trying to decide how many I can take on, I have made the choice to narrow down the options. As I apply for jobs in areas that I am passionate about, I am constantly asking myself- “Could I make a difference here? Does this use my skills in a way that I could be proud of? Is it something I can commit to?” If the answer is yes, I hit apply. If it’s not, I don’t, despite whatever financial consequences that may have. After six years of bouncing from cause to cause, I am looking for something that I can sink my teeth into, a job that I can devote myself to. I want to find my niche, and I want to work hard at it. Then and only then will I feel free to branch out again.

“Or do them all...” he said. For Nagata’s sake, I hope that's possible.