I have written about it here in another context, but I spent some five months in Egypt, and fell in love with the people. I am convinced that Egyptians have the best sense of humor, as a group, of anyone that I have met.

My time in Egypt was as a result of Saddam's invasion of Kuwait. Someone decided I should help teach the Egyptian Air Force how to do aerial refueling so that they could help to bomb Saddam and his people. But the people I fell in love with were not interested in doing that...they were interested (as humans are all over the planet) in earning enough money to feed their families, to buy a nice present once in a while for their love, and most importantly, play practical jokes on their friends and even strangers.

My arrival in Egypt was supposed to be a secret. We parked our three airplanes way out in the desert. We brought tents with us, but we had flown all the way from North Dakota, and didn't have time to set them up, that first night. So we got on a bus, and went into Giza, and stayed in a tourist hotel run by Austrians. We were under strict orders not to leave the hotel that night. We wore civilian clothes, and were told to tell anyone that asked that we were Canadians, Eh? We didn't fool the Egyptians.

My friend Kelly, who always found trouble, and his copilot, decided to go explore the local area. We were very close to the pyramids, and all the tourist activity that surrounds them. There is an amazingly packed urban area, right at the edge of the desert escarpment where the pyramids stand, and people are jostling, shoulder to shoulder in the narrow streets, at all hours. A man was selling chances to sit and pose on a camel. Kelly took his offer, and gave him five dollars, and sat on the kneeling camel. The camel then stood up...rear legs first, a very disorienting habit, that took him by surprise. When all four legs were extended, Kelly had just managed to regain his balance when the camel man slapped his camel on the butt, laughing heartily. It ran, headlong through the crowded maze of alleys, for several blocks, through random twists and turns, and finally slowed to a stop. Kelly was lost. It was starting to get dark. Soon, a young boy stood at the feet of the camel, and offered to lead the camel back to the hotel...for $20.

We eventually settled into our tents, camping at the edge of a runway paved over the sand dunes. And even though it was a secret we were there, two cab drivers took up residence outside of our camp, near the desert road to Cairo. When any of us had time to go into town (about 30 miles), Abdullah and Muhammed were always there, ready to take us. We paid them...cheaply from our perspective, but outrageously compared to what they were used to. Over time, they became rather friendly with us. They would suggest interesting things to see, places to shop for local goods (usually run by a relative), and good places to get food. We paid them by the day, so we didn't mind wandering, and they were glad to do so. One day, after our business in town was done, Abdullah said, "today, I show you, two pyramid...one up, one down." We really had no idea what he meant, but rode along. He took us miles out into the fields, irrigated by canals from the Nile. When we were completely lost, he pulled to a stop on a small arched bridge over one of the canals. We all stepped out of the car. There in the distance was the Great Pyramid, and reflected in the water of the canal was another one...upside down. The fields were brilliant green with crops. It was a view I had never seen in any postcard, and Abdullah smiled and said, "One up, one down!"

Another time, they dropped us off at the Cairo Zoo. Admission to get in came to about 37 cents. We found that, for a dollar, the lion-keeper would very happily take us into the back of the lion enclosure, and we could feed them. There was a large iron fence between us and the lions, inside a man-made cave, and we threw very large hunks of meat, bones and all, over the fence. The noise as they crunched through the bones was incredible, echoing in the cave. When they were done eating, they all curled up to nap. One lioness was laying against the fence, right near me. The lion-keeper showed me how to reach through the bars and scratch her under the chin. I did, and she enjoyed it, stretching her neck, closing her eyes, and relaxing her lips, until her long yellow teeth were showing. Good kitty!

We had other adventures at the zoo, but as we were leaving, we noticed two young Egyptian men standing in front of another fence, with a giraffe standing behind them. They were motioning to an Egyptian woman with two boys, to come get their picture taken with the giraffe. The two boys stood in the middle, with the men on either side, and giraffe behind. As Mom raised her camera, ready to take a picture, one of the men slipped a long slice of sweet potato out of his back pocket, and set it on the younger boy's head. The giraffe bent down, and just as the mother snapped the picture, a giant black tongue wrapped around the sweet potato...and the boys head...and left behind a slimy black cowlick. The boys screamed, the mother screamed, and gathered them up, and ran away; the two men doubled over with laughter...and quickly spotted a mother pushing a stroller.

One day, I had business at the Embassy, and Muhammed took me downtown. There were no lines on the wide boulevards, and the dense traffic was continually shifting into more, or fewer, lanes in each direction..dependent on the courage of the drivers. Muhammed was braver than most. He would often dodge in between oncoming traffic to pass a car, then dodge back. I was just as often grabbing the dashboard with my right hand, and looking for an imaginary brake pedal with my foot. Muhammed turned to me, and smiled a wide grin, and said, "you need to relax; I am a good driver, and I am a good muslim. And besides...I am very lucky!" His grin widened to show his teeth.

Another trip downtown with Muhammed, me again, alone with him, in the front seat. We had, over the past months, talked about his family, his religion, his government...as well as my own. He liked to compare notes. Today he was quiet, pensive. Finally, he said, looking straight ahead, "The Prophet Mohammed, Peace Be Upon Him, has said that we can have as many as four wives." He leaned toward me, and lowered his voice, and said, "just between you and me...I don't think it was such a good idea."

My time in the Air Force took me to England, Scotland, Norway, Iceland, Canada, Japan, Korea, the Philippines, Guam, Australia, Spain, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and Iraq, as well as Egypt. The Egyptians were my favorites, but everywhere, most people are the same. They fall in love, they marry, they raise their kids, they enjoy food and drink. Much moreso than I see in the US, they live with their extended family, and that becomes the center of their lives. They have little control and usually not much concern about what happens outside that circle...unless their country is actively at war. When it is, they can be manipulated to hate whoever their leaders want them to hate...and to kill and die for their leaders. It's not a normal part of their lives. It's certainly not what they would do, if left alone.