It's not just a penny

Today I met an Egyptian first year political science MA, Ramez (pronounced Rah-mez, not Ray-mez) at the Institute. Ramez is an average middle class Egyptian, a graduate of Cairo U, his English comes with a strong accent and a large amount of the expected shyness that comes with being forced to use a foreign language. He is modest, quiet, humble and stood 4 feet away from me when he introduced himself. He's been in my head ever since.

Ramez's story is a typical success story - a guy brought up in a social class which favors a more traditional approach, more engrossed in Egyptian culture, where 'foreign' is only something seen in movies and traveling abroad is a privilege envied by many.

But he dared to dream. Attending the Graduate Institute was a goal towards which he had worked for the past 4 years. To get here he needed two things: grades and money. For the grades, he sacrificed his time and his effort, but for the money, his entire family sacrificed. A whole lot.

In Egypt, and I guess anywhere really, Switzerland is automatically linked to really expensive standards of living. It is not to be taken lightly to say 'yes, I'm pursuing a masters degree in Switzerland'. But now that's what he says. That's what his mother proudly says to her neighbors and her friends. That's what his father says to his co-workers and the men he smokes shisha with after work. Because their son accomplished something. Huge. He is pursuing his masters degree in Switzerland. Yes. Our son is smart enough to study 'abroad' and we're supporting him as best we can.

My mom always says something to me when I become impatient or frustrated with LSATs. She says that I always lose sight of what I already have. That because living and studying in Geneva is within my grasp, it's become worthless to me. That I forget that it's a privilege, it's reason to be thankful.

Ramez put me to shame today.

When he asked me where I got my BA from and I answered 'oh, here in Switzerland', in the most nonchalant way as if it were normal for the other 80 million Egyptians, I felt ashamed that I didn't say it with more gratitude. To Ramez, attending the Institute isn't just another penny, it isn't just a means to an end, it is an end. It is an aspiration achieved, a goal accomplished, a dream realized.

And what seemed to me like just another penny in my piggy bank of accomplishments, doesn't seem so worthless anymore.

My stepping stone is some one else's destination. And it's only when you look back at how many destinations you've walked through without a second thought, that's when you'll realize it's not just a penny.

B