Maalish

My biggest concern before coming to Egypt with DukeEngage was that I wouldn’t be able to handle the bureaucratic red tape strung all over anything you want to get done in developing countries, particularly in the service sector. My next biggest concern was that I would be able to handle it. I figured my anal-retentive personality type would get the best of me in the end and I would be irrevocably frustrated with the small, unforeseeable obstacles that proved to be insurmountable. But the flipside, which may almost be worse, is that I would be completely unfazed by the roadblocks that not only obstruct me, but are also a representative symptom of a disease-ridden system, and that I would become jaded to the zeal that would have been the root of my former frustrations. That, I thought, might be a more permanent effect, and the idea of it didn’t sit well with me, to say the least.

There’s an important word in Egyptian Arabic called ‘maalish,’ and it means some combination of ‘Excuse me,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ and mostly ‘It’s okay.’ There is no English equivalent. Someone’s crying and you’re trying to make them feel better- maalish. You bump into someone in the street- maalish. Something stops your work from going according to plans- maalish; just say maalish and move on. It’s an ‘Hakuna Matata’ of sorts and it’s quite descriptive of the Egyptian mentality. On a somewhat tangential note, I think that’s one of the reasons I love Egyptians. They’re hilarious. They seem to carry such a light-hearted, carefree frame of mind and they are so flexible and accommodating that they are fantastic to be around and make friends with. However, when it comes to getting things done, it’s that exact type of thinking that makes work difficult in Egypt.

Granted, you have to be flexible to function here or Cairo will eat you alive, and that’s been surprisingly easy for me and I think most of us to adjust to. I often hear people in our group say, “ah, it’s Egypt. Maalish.” Yet I can’t help but thinking that being so forgiving is irresponsible and, quite frankly, a little condescending. One can’t be completely rigid, but I think an actual asset Americans bring to the table here is that indignant sense of entitlement to efficiency. Because the truth, pompous as it sounds, is that we often get it. The Sudanese are infamous for being late. We simply told our class that we will begin on time and now all of our students are in the room before we walk in. Part of me wants to argue that the culture and socioeconomic situation of Egypt make it so that the country and it’s people can only do so much; the other part of me is asking, who the hell do you think you are not to demand more?