fighting, but the distance hasn’t made coping any
easier. Some of his friends have been killed while he
has been at GCU, and he knows of another who was
abducted and has been missing for months.
Americans, he said, don’t understand the worry
that weighs on Ukrainians’ minds every day.
“It’s hard for people here to understand what
we’re going through because what they see on the
news isn’t what it’s really like. Being there and
seeing it in person, it’s much worse,” said Saiko, a
sports management major who goes by “Stas.”
“I don’t really even know what’s happening there.
I’m not home, I’m here, 6,000 miles away.”
Egyptians know the feeling
When Glazunov, Saiko and the other Ukrainians
need advice, they don’t have to look far.
Mazen and Youssef Elkamash, twin brothers
from Alexandria, Egypt, joined the GCU swim team
the same year as the Ukrainians and know what
it feels like to live through war. Bloody protests
that eventually forced President Hosni Mubarak to
resign erupted across Egypt in February 2011. More
than 860 people died in the monthlong revolution.
The twins, 19, remember tanks in the street
outside their home and looters robbing buildings
during the night. The government shut down
Internet and cable lines to prevent further uprisings.
“You could hear people shooting outside when
you slept,” said Mazen, who like his brother is a
sophomore business major.
Youssef said, “You couldn’t make a call, you
couldn’t watch TV, you couldn’t do anything, just sit like you are in a
cave. We weren’t really scared, but it was tough.”
The Elkamash brothers rarely left their house during the revolution.
They swamwhen they could
and occasionally joined
protests to stave off boredom.
They visited their older
brother, a swimmer at the
University of South Carolina,
in December 2012 and
decided they wanted to attend
college in America.
They found GCU online
and contacted coach Steve
Schaffer to join the swim
team. Leaving Egypt was
difficult — they dodged bullets and passed tanks on their way to the airport
and almost didn’t make it out.
The situation in Egypt has since calmed. The twins talk with their
mother often and don’t worry about her safety. They offer to talk to the
Ukrainians about their experiences when they need support.
“It’s different for Youssef and me than with the guys from Ukraine,”
Mazen said. “We were there with our family and friends. There were
still tanks and stuff when we left, but it was normal.”
“We know what it’s like and are here to talk when they need it,”
Youssef said.
Team’s success helps
Schaffer said he can tell by the Ukrainians’ body language when news at
home is bad. But they never complain or take practices off, he said.
“I think in one way or another all swimmers use swimming as an
escape from what’s going on in their lives,” said Schaffer, who swam at
UCLA and has been GCU’s coach for seven years. “They’re some of our
best swimmers. The reason we wanted to bring those types of guys in is
because they’re fast, and they’ve helped us this year.”
Glazunov agrees that the team’s success — and preparing for the recent
Western Athletic Conference championships — provided some relief. He
and Saiko are simply happy their families are alive. For now, they try to
focus on swimming and school and block out everything else.
Glazunov and Saiko have urged their parents to leave Ukraine but
know there is nothing they can do. They haven’t been home since moving
to Phoenix and don’t know when or if they can return.
They don’t worry. Maybe it’s better that way.
“I didn’t bring anything to remind me of home except clothes and my
(swim) suit,” Saiko said. “I don’t worry about it. After what’s happened
there, I just cannot go back.”
GCU TODAY • 1 5
I don’t really even
know what’s
happening there.
I’m not home,
I’m here, 6,000
miles away.
Mazen (left) and Youssef
Elkamash show their GCU
pride with swim coach
Steve Schaffer at the
Giza Necropolis outside
Cairo. Schaffer traveled
to the twins’ homeland to
watch them swim for the
Egyptian national team.
photo courtesy
of mazen
elkamash
Swimming is a helpful
distraction for Glazunov when
news from home gets tough.
photo by deb
schaffer