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. If I believed in other lives, then maybe I did in one of them. My heart beats to the drums of my favorite Egyptian songs from Amr Diab to Sherine. It never stops. The Egyptian sense of humor is unmatched, according to my dad. I think their humor could go head to head with Sudanese humor, but that's just me. Egypt is calling my name telling me to relish in my family's memories and to visit my dad's university. But I'm still not ready…maybe one day I will be, but I'm not there yet. If I was building a puzzle about me going to Egypt, I could say I'm definitely missing the most important pieces. Once they're found, I will see that country for myself. Until then, I can only envision what I think Cairo is like based on the stories my dad told me when I was growing up.
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