It has been a week since I returned from my pilgrimage to Egypt. The first few days were spent sharing gifts and stories with my wife and children and readjusting my body clock to the seven-hour time change.
It will take me some time to process the profound experiences I’ve had meeting some of my large Egyptian family in Cairo and Luxor. For now, I’m left wondering what’s next? On the other side of this long anticipated journey, how might the bridge now built with family on the other side of the world inform future connection, experiences, and learnings?
What is clear today is just how meaningful it was to not only set foot on Egyptian soil and meet family for the first time but also to retrace my mother’s steps. It’s been nearly twenty years since mom died and this trip was a way to honor her memory and feel close to her again. It was a chance to learn more about her incredible, adventurous years living along the Nile river and consider what she was like as a young woman.
It is fascinating to review her letters and correspondence now that I’ve been to some of the places and met most of the people she references in these very personal missives. Her writings come to life all the more and bring a smile to my face when I consider her observations and musings.
It is simply amazing that my mom, at 23 years of age, jumped into married life in Luxor amid such a radically different country and culture from her own. It’s a side of her that I’m not sure I ever really came to know in the twenty years I had with her growing up in New York.
This opportunity to walk the same streets, lounge in the same street cafes, and tour the same sites she did, just over forty years later, made my mom’s spirit feel very present and almost tangible.
Time in Egypt also offered a brief glimpse at just how differently my life would have been had I been born in Cairo as opposed to Manhattan. I am now fairly convinced, as my father’s eldest, that I would have dutifully followed Hamada into the travel business had I grown up as an Egyptian. I doubt I would have realistically considered any other vocation as a viable option. The sites and sounds; the frenetic pace of the Cairene streets would have been commonplace for me. My mother tongue would have been Arabic and Islam would have been my touchstone instead of Christianity.
This all leaves me confirmed in the opinion that cultural context makes the difference. We human beings, for all our divisions, share a lot of things in common. We share similar hopes and dreams and find daily life enriched by the companionship of family and friends. Culture accounts for the differences around the world in the ways we live out our daily lives and make meaning from our everyday experiences. And I join my mother in firmly believing that these differences are great gifts that enliven us all; gifts we should seek to explore and learn something about for our own sake for the sake of the world that God has made and loves so much.
I suspect I will continue to process this journey for some time and look forward to future chapters of this unfolding story including the day I can bring my wife and children with me to experience Egypt for themselves. I’m grateful I’ve finally taken this big step and trust it will help me to continue to grow into the man, husband, father, and priest I’ve been called to be.
Thanks for following along as I’ve sketched out these reflections!
Finding my Egyptian Roots 