Written in the sands of Egypt lies the dreams of my father when he was in college. In the air is the fragrance of my parent's passion riddled with memories of their honeymoon. I hear the melodies of Mohammed Munir’s live concerts in Cairo radiating from my father's ears. I smell the aroma of foul being sold in the food stalls on the street. I close my eyes and envision the Yacoubian building just as vividly as it was described in the book and movie. My tongue speaks the language almost as if I lived there all of my life....