Today is my birthday. In fact, it’s my
third consecutive birthday in Cairo.  And
yet, if you ask me where home is, I’ll probably tell you the US.  

I’m not sure how many years you have to
spend in a place before you consider it home, but the truth is, Cairo is as
much my home as New York. I’ve been living and working here for almost three
years now. I’m fluent in Arabic. I have sweat rivers that rival the Nile. I
have made friends, enemies, and relationships to last a lifetime. I’ve laughed
and made others laugh, cried and made others cry, lied and made others lie. I’ve
helped people and been helped, fought and been fought, loved and been loved. I’ve
been fooled, cheated, robbed and evicted. I’ve been supported and cheered on. I’ve
had fits of laughter and fits of rage. I’ve almost been arrested, deported, and
killed on several occasions. I’ve even experienced a revolution. In short, I’ve
lived my life here, and I have a few grey hairs to show for it. If none of this
makes a place your home, I don’t know what does. 

Just today, I paid a visit to Yasser, one
of the most well-known costume vendors at the Khan al-Khalili Bazaar. More than
his costumes, I adore his wisdom. We hadn’t seen each other since the before
the revolution, and he said he noticed I changed. My face changed, to be
precise. He said it had a certain ‘sweetness’ to it that was not there before
the revolution. Not the sweetness of innocence or excessive kindness, but the sweetness
that comes from hard knocks. I never thought about it this way, but maybe he
had a point. I have been through a
lot, especially over the past six months, and I’ve acquired an attitude of
careless resignation as a result. Well, sort of.

I guess what I’m getting at is that Cairo
has been a type of boot camp for me. Life in the raw, if you will. It is for
many people. Cairo teaches you how to function as a human being without leaning
on the western crutches of political correctness and boundaries. It teaches you
how to survive, how to succeed, how to anticipate and deal with people, and how
to defend yourself. Cairo is the kind of experience that makes you regret being
born, but that deep down, you find a way to love. And, it offers all the perks of
any great city—just with a few more kicks in the butt.  

So today, in addition to celebrating my
birthday, I will celebrate a few things. I will celebrate the fact that I
survived and thrived in Cairo for three years. I will celebrate the approval of
my work visa, my Egyptian residency, and my dance work. I will celebrate every
opportunity Egypt has given me, especially the opportunity to fulfill my dreams.
I will celebrate the fresh start I gave myself in life. And I will celebrate the
fact that for better or worse, Cairo is raising me.