Chronicles of A Revolutionary Egyptian Expatriate (3)

The Choices

Tahrir Square, February 2011

Many people think they know what it must be like to be away from home while there's a revolution going on back there. I have to say that they don't, unless they've tried it themselves. It is not just that you worry about your family's safety in the midst of everything, and it is not just that you wonder what will happen now. There is more to it than words can say.

January 2011

Back in January and February, I spent endless hours in Dubai stuck to the couch watching TV and at the same time reading tweets about what's going on in Egypt. I spent a lot of money on long-distance phone calls to friends who were in Tahrir most of the time. I knew almost everything that was going on there, I knew too much, because I wanted to be there. My sleep was reduced to a few hours a night and was full of anxiety nightmares.

However, unlike many other Egyptian expats who thought there is nothing we could do, I felt I had a duty. I thought my duty was to spread the word about what is going in Egypt around the world as much as I can. Some of my friends in Egypt asked me to do that too. They were literally fighting for their lives, and for many Egyptians' lives. They could barely tweet what was happening on the streets to let everybody know the truth, but they had no time to spread it around. Many of the 18 days were full of tears and gloom. I was so depressed my chest hurt every night. At some point, I lost hope that anything was going to change. It looked like an endless fight between what is right and what unjust. Nonetheless, my friends in Tahrir never felt the same way I did, and they never gave up or stopped. Eventually, it worked and the tyrant stepped down! It made me feel ashamed that I ever lost hope.

But even then, I didn't feel at ease. Two days after that, I started feeling depressed again. This time I wasn't crying of fear or despair, I was crying because I wasn't there. I wasn't there when my brave friends faced all the tear gas, the bullets, and the numerous other ways they were attacked. I wasn't there when they all cried in Tahrir after Mubarak's defiant speech on that last weekend before he stepped down. I wasn't there when they heard he's leaving and cheered on the streets. I felt almost ashamed that I had to stay away because of my job. I spent an entire week seriously questioning my contribution to that great feat they've all achieved and contemplating how some people risked their lives and some lost theirs to get us all freedom, while I was safe in another country. It took me some time to get convinced that spreading the news about the revolution while trying to support my friends was a good contribution considering that I wasn't even there. And then of course, we all thought it was over. However, this time in November, it was quite different.

9 Months later...

Mohamed Mahmoud Street off Tahrir Square
By: Hossam El Hamalawy
http://www.flickr.com/photos/elhamalawy/6392975237/in/set-72157628195422489/

What happened in during November in itself wasn't entirely unexpected to me, but it was still so abrupt and so bloody. I had been hoping that the Tahrir spirit would come back to us after things have come to a still stand and the Supreme Council for Armed Forces (SCAF) had total control over everything. This time the security forces were amply prepared. They never ran out of ammunition, never received orders to withdraw, and they kept fighting for days on end. So many people died, so many lost eyes, and so many were injured every single hour. There was just too much blood on those streets.

Meanwhile, I had to continue reading my case studies every night. I had to keep showing up to classes and even participating to maintain my grades. I had to look ok and I had to answer people when they spoke to me. It was almost impossible to put up the pretense on some days. I woke up every single day during those two weeks and had to check my twitter in bed just to make sure my best friends were still alive in Tahrir. I had to read the news about new martyrs and more fighting every single morning while scrolling down to see if anyone I know was hurt. I've never been so scared in my life, because I knew those soldiers were told to kill and they were not going to stop.

A scene of the battle in Mohamed Mahmoud Street
By: Hossam El Hamalawy
http://www.flickr.com/photos/elhamalawy/6380916743/

It was extremely difficult to watch this happen from a distance one more time, and I felt so helpless. I was full of awe and respect for my friends who went back to the streets to face all of this brutality again. This time they definitely knew they could die, and they did not mind. They decided that it was either this or nothing; it was either freedom or death. My heart hurt for every person who died and every person who lost an eye, or even two, just because they want justice. I was full of anger and sadness, and kept thinking of why I'm here while this was going on. It is not a job that's holding me back this time, it's just a degree- one that I've dreamt of getting for years, and one that I want to use for the good of Egypt eventually. But what good was a degree going to be if all my friends might get hurt or even die? What good was it going to be in a destroyed country where oppression and injustice have taken over again?

The other hard part was how disconnected everyone around here is. We never discuss the news in class, whether political or economic news, whether American or international. One of defining moments for me was that during all the bloodshed in Egypt and the fear and despair I was feeling, I was supposed to decide if I want to spend $500 on a big dinner party or not. Naturally, I couldn't think about spending the equivalent of 3,000 Egyptian pounds on a party while I knew there're people who can't afford the surgeries they need after getting injured in Tahrir fighting on my behalf.  I can at least spend some of that money in Egypt to help somebody who needs help or buy things from a local shop that that can't make enough without tourism. In a strange way, I felt I had to act responsible. I've always promised myself that when I have things, I'd give to those who don't- whether that was money or knowledge and education.

The heart

Praying in Tahrir
By: Hossam El Hamalawy
http://www.flickr.com/photos/elhamalawy/6380238955/in/set-72157628195422489/

This made me realize I'll keep coming across similar moments when I have to be here with my body and part of my mind, but the rest of it along with my heart is in the other side of the world- in Egypt, and also in Syria, Yemen, and Bahrain were people are still getting killed everyday for demanding what's rightfully theirs. And I have to make space for that, because it means I won't always be involved in everything that's going on here. I came here to fulfill a personal dream of mine, but that dream has grown to span my country as well. After February 2011, I had a new sense of hope that I never had before. I started hoping I could one day spend the rest of my life in Egypt and that I could use all this education and knowledge that I've been accumulating to do something for my people. It might be a romantic idea, but now it controls my being here. It's the only reason I decided that it's ok to stay here while my friends were being shot at in Tahrir. Maybe it it not my turn to fight yet, but it's my turn to learn until it's time to fight a different kind of battle.