Egypt, Egyptians, and the New Me

Leviticus 19—“The stranger who dwells among you shall be to you as one born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.”

This verse speaks to the overriding change that Egypt helped produce in me.

Ten years. I have not been to one of my favorite places in the world in ten years. Yet Siwa Oasis, the little jewel of Egypt’s Western Desert, still looms big and fresh in my memory.

All of Siwa’s individual traits can be found elsewhere in the world—but I know of few locations that have so many special characteristics in one place. Tens of thousands of palm trees, huge and pure sand dunes, ancient ruins, the mud town of Shali, Cleopatra’s Pool and lots of other springs, the Palm Trees Hotel and Abdu’s Restaurant—both cheap but sufficient—countless bicycle trails and donkey carts, starry nights, and a lack of traffic signals make up this beautiful desert home.

In general, Egypt has numerous unique attractions—and they go far beyond the ancient wonders (or current problems) that get all the headlines. But more importantly, Siwa and Egypt both have charming people who also evade media attention.

Siwans, like the people of other desert havens in the nation, consider themselves citizens of their oasis first, and of Egypt second. They are North African Berber, not Arab or pharaonic, and they retain their own language, culture, dress, and history. Today many speak Arabic and a few speak English, but whatever the linguistic connection or barrier, you can sip tea for hours in local shops with your gracious, smiling hosts. This may result in trading contact info—and some actually do write you—or even in receiving gifts on your subsequent trip…a year later.

Back in Cairo and Alexandria, people often look at you with dollar signs in their eyes. But if you speak a few words of Arabic, or patron the same koshari shop or restaurant twice, Egyptians may well help you, laugh with you, spend the day with you, or become your true friend. An Egyptian colleague will probably pull pranks on you, but they will feel deeply honored if you ever respond to their endless requests to hang out. Just note their invitations expect several hours of your time, whether you get stuck in traffic or not.

Egyptians like to talk about anything. Religion and politics are usually open topics, despite likely disagreements or misunderstandings. Muslim friends have asked me sincerely about the nature of the Trinity or the life and death of Christ. One Osama and Mohamad found it funny—because of their names—to drink tea with a Christian American. But personal matters are acceptable, too: “I am a strong man; I have six children!” Or, “Why aren’t you married yet?” (By the way, I did find my wife in Egypt!)

Egypt was the first place in which I lived outside my own country. I was excited, but scared, not knowing the people, food, or language—and only trusting one viewpoint about their religion and government. I met my first Egyptian on my Munich-Cairo flight. His friendly enthusiasm for my visit started a rapid, dramatic shift in my approach to this ancient nation, which, after all, was ten times older than my own. Now I have dozens of Egyptian contacts—including my closest friend from outside my homeland.

The spiritual state of Egypt greatly tugs on my heart and informs my prayers. I long to see hearts redeemed in phenomenal communities like Tanta, Dahab, Agouza, and Siwa. Among my richest memories in Egypt was worshiping at Maadi Community Church. Members hail from across the globe. My small group had Czech, Egyptian, Brazilian, or American passports. One morning the pastor invited everyone to turn and face the sunlight—and Egypt—behind us. With hands raised, we proclaimed:

“Shine Jesus, shine; fill this land with the Father’s glory!

Blaze Spirit, blaze; set our hearts on fire!

Flow river, flow; flood the nations with grace and mercy.

Send forth Your Word, Lord, and let there be light!”

I studied in Egypt for three months in 2004, visited for two weeks 2005, and worked there for six months in 2006. Obviously much has changed in the country since then. But I worked with many Egyptians in Qatar from 2010-2013, and believe the people have changed only a little. When you travel—or simply live—with a heart that strives to love and learn from others, God might change you more than anyone you meet along the way.

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(Originally published by the Maadi Messenger.)