Toby Eck

A fascinating young man in his early twenties, I got to meet Toby in Tel Aviv in the spring of 2006. He had been a student of my cousin Lisa in Arizona, and had pursued his interest in filmmaking. He was in Israel to present his short Ana Mish Fahim.

Here it becomes more interesting. American by birth and in every way culturally imaginable, his skin is fair and his hair is light. Toby’s father was of Swedish extraction. Mother was from Egypt. Father converted to Islam to marry mother, even though mother’s family never quite fully digested him. He spent part of his childhood in Saudi Arabia and speaks fluent Arabic. He is even a bona fide Hajji.

Especially in the aftermath of September 11, Toby has struggled with building an identity as a secular Muslim in America. His ideas are unconventional within the context of much of the “mainstream” Muslim discourse (he dates girls, has a positive fascination with Israel). His intriguing films try to reconcile this duality. He accepts that there is no definitive conclusion.

He even interviewed me on film in my home in Tel Aviv, an honor I found most humbling. I hope to see it one day (hint, hint).

Part of having a binational identity between juxtaposing first and third world cultures is the issue of class. While America may not be quite the meritocracy it purports, there are fewer cultural fault lines along social class (as opposed to race). Money buys status, by and large. Wealth earned through labor is glorified.

In Egypt, as in many third world countries, being white instantly confers status. Labor is frowned upon by the elites. So when Toby is in Egypt, he can ride with the upper crust crowd, and use his American nationality, not to mention features, to gain access to social privileges reserved for but a few.

That elite Egyptian crowd nevertheless expects certain things from him that simply aren't there. The first is the budget. By night he hangs out with the English speaking youth, the elite jet setting type. You travel in someone's driven Mercedes or the like to some location where your car is chauffeured into the dark. At the entrance you're waved in, the guard having easily noticed your American features, thereby obviating the need for ID. The bar or lounge is priced exorbitantly for standard international fare. Toby's humble travel budget for covers the 200 pounds (35 dollars) for pasta. By day he gets around Heliopolis on scooter, dodging cars and donkeys on his was to pick up a breakfast that costs no more than 3 pounds (54 cents).

The second is alcohol. Once you're part of the elite in Cairo, it's fashionable to drink. If he were "really" Egyptian, he reckons he would drink to try to fit in and hang with these wealthier kids.

The alcohol issue is interesting in America, too, the land of binge-drinking youth. While not drinking was part of his upbringing as a Muslim, today Toby is very health-conscious, ingesting not so much as aspartame or MSG, let alone alcohol, perhaps quite wisely, I might add. This is a minority, yet accepted lifestyle in North America, and works effectively to put these values into an American context.

Like Gaby and me, he accepts that he'll never feel truly at home anywhere. Toby's main vehicle for an integrated self-made identity has been his film making. Ultimately, Toby, like the rest of us Nationally Confused, has eked out a cultural space for himself, as a citizen of the world, comfortable with ambiguities that are not easily answered, and at home where he hangs his hat.