The dream that I've nursed since childhood has come true,And my love for the land of Egypt has been embraced by
Overwhelming warmth of the Egyptians, unlike anywhere else.
From Luxor to Aswan to Alexandria to Cairo,
People constantly ask me if I'm a movie star, or a kungfu master, or what sports I do,
And call me "Jacky Chan," "Bruce Lee," or "Rambo,"
And swarm around asking to take a photo with me,
Or kiss me on the left cheek, then the right cheek,
Then back to the left, and then back to the right,
Or stroke my arm, take my hand, saying "Ni Hao" upon first sight.
The policeman would stop the traffic just to let me go,
When I cross the busy and noisy street without a traffic light.
And when I'm at the Customs to get my passport stamped,
A policeman hands my passport to the Customs officer,
Even though there is a long line in front of me.
Children beg me to teach them martial arts, in exchange for "belly dance."
Hotel managers offer me cappuccino on the house;
Fashion shop owners invite me for tea and coke.
My tour guide says everyone he meets would ask him who I am;
Some believe that I might be the reincarnation of a Pharaoh,
Saying I look like Tutankhamen.
My tour guide says that I simply have "yuanfen" with Egypt.
Wherever I travel, I make great new friends.
Ahmed, a handsome young Egyptian with obvious ancient Roman origins,
Works on our cruise "Song of Egypt" as a masseur using Egyptian flower essence.
He enjoys watching me swimming, telling me China has the best swimmers.
And he looks unhappy when I correct him that the best Olympic swimmers
Are actually from U.S. and Australia.
He worships China and quotes from the Koran to me
That for learning it's never too far to go to China.
We play Ping Pong on the deck, and he also invites me to swim in the blue Nile river.
One day when I tell him I'm leaving for Cairo and then Alexandria soon,
His sunny smiling face freezes and his eyes get wet.
It seems he has a lot to say and I'm even late for lunch.
He waves me good-bye on the deck,
Till my fellow travelers and I disappear in his sight,
And till "Song of Egypt" disappears in my sight.
Sherif, aged 8, and Muhammud, aged 6,
Are two lively Egyptian kids I meet on the cruise.
They are angelically good with brilliant hearts,
And would look for me--their kungfu master--on the cruise everyday
To play Ping Pong or hide-and-seek.
The Arabs all love children, and are happy to see us playing.
Sherif and Muhammud's sister Dina is a pretty and shy girl,
Singing and dancing for us at the party for Chinese tourists.
Later a group of Arab women join the Chinese,
Singing melodious songs of "habibi."
Xun Hong, one of my fellow travelers and an accomplished woman,
Falls in love with our local tour guide Hassan in Luxor,
A kind young man who majored in Egyptian history in college.
Parting is so hard for them at the Luxor Train Station,
As the weeping is on both sides.
Traveling to Cairo by night train in the old and small cabin,
My dream seems to have lasted for 7,000 years.
I'm never able to adequately capture the sights and feelings
Of traveling through Egypt, along the Nile and across the desert,
Of walking through the avenue of Sphinxes and massive pillars,
Through the anthropoid stone coffins, Pharaoh statues,
And through the bazaars at Khalili,
And through the men and women wearing long white or black robes.
I feel as though I had been dragged back to centuries ago.
Xu Hong, Gong Wen and I have a long, long walk in the desert towards the pyramids of Giza,
The dazzling sunlight almost baking us into mummies.
My breath and time seem to have ceased
When I'm standing in reverence before the thrilling pyramids.
What I've seen a million times in pictures, in my dreams and on TV
Are now in front of my eyes and my hands.
Two little kids come to us selling their little pyramid souvenirs, postcards and papyrus bookmarks.
"Ni Hao, Bruce Lee!" The taller boy greets me.
His dad is Spanish.
"I'm Rambo and he is Simba!" He points to himself and then to his little brother.
We neither want to buy anything nor want to disappoint them,
And so we give each of them one Egyptian pound,
But refuse to take their souvenirs.
Little "Rambo" is shocked, and seems very touched.
He suddenly decides to give us all his stuff for free.
But how can I accept them?
The money they make by selling these little things means food for a week.
The two dark, dirty and yet cute angelic little faces break my heart.
They insist on giving me all their stuff for free.
And finally I decide to take them by giving them my sunglasses in exchange,
Though money is more important to them than sunglasses.
They stand there silently, with empty hands holding just my sunglasses,
And watch us walking ahead towards Sphinx.
I can never forget those pure, innocent eyes that moment;
They touch the depth of my heart.
Seeing the people's lives here just brings out my tears.
I've seen a little boy driving a carriage for the European tourists laughing behind,
And a smiling cute teenaged boy being taught by his strict boss
How to hold toilet paper in the washroom of a restaurant,
And dirty men and kids running around the pyramids,
Or outside the temples, the Valley of the Kings,
Or on the riverside,
In the heat of the mid-day sun, or against the sandstorm,
Holding their souvenirs and shouting "One dollar! One dollar!"
I've seen beautiful men and women, wearing filthy robes, walking in dirt, in garbage,
In foul water, with heavy loads on their heads,
And crappy cars and trucks rushing in a symphony of horn blowing,
Like Tarzan of the traffic jungle,
And buses still moving with doors open when customers jump on and off.
I've seen the captain of our cruise and his crew eating awful food in a small oven,
But give the best--salad, dessert, fruit, bread, beef, mutton--to us tourists,
I've seen people living in ugly unfinished buildings, without window panes or rooftop,
As if the city had been bombed.
For the first time in my life I've seen a different world like this,
Where people have created a great civilization and have lived through martyrdom,
Bound hand and feet by British and French thralldom.
For Allah's sake I buy more than I need and give more tips than usual,
And more tolerant to being overcharged occasionally by unsophisticated Arab tricks,
As I'm deeply in love with the people here, mostly kind, warm, pure-hearted,
And happy and content with their daily life, with eating their big baked bread.
They smile, joke, watch African cup, sing and dance, come out at nights,
Enjoy life as much as anyone in any other country.
I love their bronze-colored skin and desert-like eyes,
And love their curly hair, curious eyes and sweet child-like smiles.
I love being surrounded by them, being asked about anything Chinese,
And anything about myself.
This is the land I want to adopt as my second homeland.
My life is forever changed for having embarked on this sojourn,
And my sleuthing in Egypt for inspiration
Is rewarded with new innovative ideas and new associates...
Nefertiti, Nefertari and Cleopatra will all be in my next story.
What Pharaohs had before shall be interpreted in a new way
For today's readers...
Xun Hong looks forward to my first MV production, of her playing Chinese zither
In front of the Khufu pyramid.
I, however, can imagine, how exciting it will be if I play Peking Opera
In front of Abul Simbel temple.
02/10/2006
