Revolutionary Trash

This is a reflection from last week....things are changing so quickly all the time, and it is a full-time job to sift through the information. Khaled and I "debrief" nightly after the kids go to bed, and this is when I find out what is really going on as he tells me what has happened in the Arabic press. I hope to catch up on some more thoughts and synthesize them. For now, here is a small bit from last week.

As an Egyptian-American family, we’ve been glued to the internet for the last week, watching in disbelief, fear and wonder as the Revolution unfolds. For us, there is nothing else happening. The need for moments of lightness has emerged. One day I joked with my husband, Khaled, that clearly it was the real and promised revolution as evidenced by the most shocking sight of all: Egyptians were picking up trash.

During our visits to Egypt, I had never understood the propensity of Egyptians to litter. Even Khaled would drop a wrapper in the street without a thought, a gesture he would never do at home in the United States. People’s homes, however humble, were always fastidiously clean and cared for. Yet the streets were filled with garbage one had to step around. In Bahari, the fishing section of Alexandria that is our favorite part of the city, we stayed in an apartment overlooking the Mediterranean, spread out in all its roiling, changing, glory. Outside the apartment building, refuse filled the street, overflowing trash bins, cats scrounging through the piles for their food. Trying to teach my child to take responsibility for her own messes was pretty much impossible when surrounded by her Egyptian family who casually tossed trash out of train windows or in the street. I’ve always been mystified by this as it seemed so out of tune with the generous, non-imposing spirit of the Egyptians I know.

Now I get it. The streets were not theirs. Now they are. And now, as we watch the truly incredible explosion of bravery and pride and pent-up aspirations of the Egyptians taking back their country, here are the men and women of the revolution, the same Egyptians who probably tossed their Molto wrapper or newspaper down onto the same street a month ago, lovingly cleaning the streets when the space temporarily clears of demonstrators. It is their country now. And this simple act of care-taking—alongside, of course, the overwhelming sentiment that the majority is unflinchingly willing to die for their cause—should ensure everyone that they will serve its best interests.