Memories of the Sphinx and Pyramids in Cairo, Egypt

Memories of the Sphinx and Pyramids in Cairo, Egypt by Tim Ghazzawi:

I remember it sandy. I remember it dry. I remember the winding road I took to get to school, a school that seemed to rise out of the middle of the desert. I remember my uniform, a simple white and navy, embellished with the logo of an olive tree. I remember performing in plays there and also soccer and swimming. I remember the sports club across from the school where I learned to play tennis.

I remember the skeletons of apartment buildings, abandoned without being finished. I remember palm trees. I remember the bowling alley. I remember armed guards. I remember the community mall in town that showed American movies years after they’d been released. I remember getting a haircut there and having mom being told to leave the salon for wearing shorts. I remember za’atar and tabouleh and pistachio desserts.

I remember dad clutching prayer beads in his hand. I remember backgammon. I remember the smell of hookah. I remember the neighborhood stationary store and the market that sold cereals I did not recognize. I remember the hanging carcasses of cows and sheep.

I remember the Pyramids and their crumbling khaki-colored stones. I remember mom climbing onto a camel and me being too scared. I remember the lights show at the Sphinx. I remember riding a felucca on the Nile. I remember traffic and 10-lane highways without markers.

I remember going to church with mom on Fridays. I remember praying at the local mosque with dad sometimes on Fridays, too. I remember the call to prayer, rhythmic, loud, reliable, and comforting. I remember how at the end of every prayer, while sitting atop prayer rugs, heads would turn right and left in unison, each time saying, “Peace be upon you,” words extending outward to the horizons beyond.

Most of my childhood memories are fleeting, images only here and there. I haven’t been back in almost 20 years. I’m sure it’s different now. The news has me believe so. I moved to Egypt with my family when I was five. My brother not yet a year old. And lived in an apartment building in Maadi, an expat-filled community outside of Cairo. The impact of experiences so young is sometimes hard to measure. Today I speak no Arabic and remain in touch only with an American woman who moved away from Egypt like we did and now lives in Colorado. Still I remember these things, not as good or bad, but as persistent, enduring, ineradicable. Familiar to me, simply because they feel just so.

THE FACTS

I lived in Egypt with my brother, dad, and mom between the years 1995 and 2000. There is little advice I can provide to prospective travelers now. Sadly, given the current unstable socio-political climate in the region, the U.S. advises increased caution to those visiting. There are incredible plans to open the Grand Egyptian Museum in 2020, though!

If you enjoyed reading about my childhood memories of the Sphinx and Pyramids in Cairo, Egypt, you might also check out the following stories related to my family’s other adventures: