tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8995602.post-31188642735062245392008-01-02T18:33:00.000-05:002008-01-02T19:20:50.578-05:002008-01-02T19:20:50.578-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hEmMUiOQltM/R3wgLpwMjeI/AAAAAAAAAMk/3-i7ecYvzVI/s1600-h/giza.001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hEmMUiOQltM/R3wgLpwMjeI/AAAAAAAAAMk/3-i7ecYvzVI/s400/giza.001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151027458363657698" /></a>We've been having a great time in Egypt this week.  The first day was insane, as we had to cover 7,000 years of Egyptian history in 7 hours.  In other words, we hit a week's worth of major tourist spots in one day.  But we had a great time.<div><br /></div><div>This trip to Egypt in many ways marks the end of an era.  My father says he will retire this year.  He first started traveling to Cairo for work 25 years ago.  He used to spend a couple of months here at a time.  When he left on the first couple of trips we were excited because it meant pancakes for breakfast and we could eat in the living room.</div><div><br /></div><div>By the time we were in high school and college he was in Egypt most of the year.  The two longest stretches he was away were 14 and 15 months.  He missed a lot of birthdays, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Christmas</span> mornings and wedding anniversaries.  Sometimes we would have no idea when he was going.  I would come home from school and his bags would be packed.  And other times the house would be a mess and we would get a call from the office that he would be home in four hours. </div><div><br /></div><div>We joined him as much as we could.  My mother would come stay here most every other summer, and my little brother lived here for a year.  This has been my third trip, and my wife's first.  </div><div><br /></div><div>My father was present by being absent. In a strange way his being in Egypt was how he could best love his family: Slaving away in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">foreign</span> land so that we could live. Egypt almost killed my father.  He has had two stokes here.</div><div><br /></div><div>For most of my life (since the 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span></span> grade) I have both loved and hated Egypt.  It took my father away, which gave me both freedom and need.  Egypt was a job for both my father and my brother.  It was home base to other ports of call like Jordan, Syria, and Iraq.  Egypt paid for our home and for college... but at a price.</div><div><br /></div><div>For 25 years Egypt has been a part of our daily lives, because even if we were not in Cairo it meant that Dad was not at home.  And so now it is time for our Exodus.  We will be taken out of Egypt... but the Egypt will never be taken out of us.</div><div><br /></div>Omarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08664056566879773286noreply@blogger.com3