My Parents & My Diaspora: Cairo to New Jersey

My parents and older sister, touring Luxor, Egypt (1989)

By Sarah Essa

Part 1.

My mother was born in the historic oasis city-town of Al-Fayoum and my father was born in the capital of Cairo. Mona, my mother, graduated from Cairo University with a bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry, and my father, Diaa, graduated from the Police Academy with a degree in Law. Both of my parents went on to succeed in their respective careers after obtaining a higher education. Life was good for my mother and father, as they were members of big, yet tight-knit loving families. My mother is one of 7 and my father is one of 6. Their entire lives revolved around their families and the morals/values that were instilled in them by my grandparents. Eventually, my mom and dad got married in 1987 and honeymooned in Greece. About a year later in 1988, my older sister Yasmin was born in Cairo. They decided to go back to Greece for the second time with my older sister, which somehow still gets me a little jealous because I wasn't born yet (even though Yasmin was an infant and doesn't remember any of it). The travel bug hit my newlywed parents, which led to the beginning of their journey across the Atlantic. Their first visit to America in 1989, which took place with the intentions of visiting my mother’s sister (who had moved and established herself in New Jersey with her husband and newborn daughter, my cousin) turned into the decision of immigrating to the United States. My mother stayed for about 4 years, while my father went back to Cairo to his career and to finalize certain affairs before officially moving to America. Sometimes, I wonder what exact thoughts went through my young mother's mind, as she was adjusting to life in New Jersey, waiting for my dad to come back. She states the few years as enjoyable, as she spent time with her sister, brother-in-law, and the babies (my sister and cousin). I remember as a kid I would always ask my mom about the hilarious story of her first time seeing fireflies in the backyard of my aunt’s house in Central Jersey. It freaked her out so much, but little did she know she would experience blizzards and all of the other surprises Jersey had to offer. Growing up, seeing my father work so hard as a business owner while improving his English instilled a deep respect within me for all that he did. Everything my dad gave up in Egypt, which included a stable and respected career, was done so that he could come to a land he was unfamiliar with, struggling with a language he barely knew, in hopes of giving my siblings and I a chance to succeed. My mother’s admirable work ethic, proving so since day 1 and starting off humbly at a coffee shop before landing a job at a medical company and now being an Account Manager (all while putting a home-cooked meal on the table every night) surpasses the concept of "superwoman." Every piece of advice my father gives me resonates in some way, even if it's not in the moment. His wisdom will be what gets me through my adulthood, although I tend to crack a joke or two at the extremely deep quotes he loves to explain. Thinking about a journey such as theirs makes me so proud to have parents who would literally cross an ocean and face the unknown, simply because they knew they could do it. To me, that takes a lot of guts and I applaud every immigrant who has gone through life for the sole purpose of improvement. Despite the obstacles they would have to overcome and the funny faces people would give them for having an accent, my parents became much stronger and more humble. My mother and father's immigration from Egypt to the United States has written a new chapter in our family’s history, one full of ups and downs and learning experiences. Nonetheless, it is a life that I truly appreciate.

Mona and Diaa pictured with their first daughter, Yasmin

My mother, Mona, at a park in Central Jersey with my older sister, Yasmin, and cousin, Hoda

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Baby Sarah with father, Diaa, at the Islamic Society of Central Jersey.
They go to this mosque until this day.

Part 2.

The diaspora is such a weird place to be living in. Embodying a hyphenated identity, Egyptian-American, is a constant inner battle. Always feeling a little too West for the East and a little too East for the West. Constantly longing for the homeland that almost all of my extended family lives in, where some of my best memories have been made, and where I truly feel like my authentic self, is extremely melancholy. But sometimes, feeling like if I were to stay there for an extended period of time, I would feel so disconnected with my life back in America. Often, I wonder what my life would be like if I grew up around my first cousins (there are 30 of us), aunts (8), uncles (5), and grandparents. Would relationships be stronger? Definitely. Would my parents be able to grow in wisdom with their siblings, whom they are very attached to? Of course. Would my parents have coped with the death of my maternal grandmother, my mother’s eldest sister, and my mother’s sister-in-law more gracefully, being surrounded by family? Absolutely. However, everything happens for a reason. My parents ultimately decided to make a living in the United States for the benefit of their children. To give my sisters and I an exceptional education and a comfortable life in a country that prides itself on some great values, is something they risked a lot for. Leaving their families, respected careers, and the country that they know and love, is the ultimate sacrifice. But distance makes the heart grow fonder, that is a fact. Whenever we do get the chance to visit Egypt and our family, not a minute is wasted. The value of our familial relationships is crystal clear and cherished. Being able to adventure in Cairo with my cousins in the neighborhoods of Giza and Zamalek to grab aseer asab (sugar cane juice) and masr al-Qadima (Old Cairo) to frolic in the lively bazaar of Khan el-Khalili while my cousins Amr and Mostafa help me bargain with the shopkeepers to get the best deal on souvenirs (they definitely know I’m American and want to jack the prices up) is quite the experience. Hell, there’s even a weird sense of nostalgia for the overcrowded streets, pollution, and the honking of horns, which is the second official language in Egypt after Arabic. Renting out a villa in the North Coast with a bunch of my khaltos (my mom’s sisters), khalos (my mom’s brothers), and cousins, and relaxing near the Mediterranean is always a blessing to look back on. All of these priceless moments are ones that cannot be reduced to a few sentences, but that is the most justice that can be given, at the time being. That Egyptian sense of humor, the warm hospitality, and the feeling that you never left is what gives the country its unique charm. That is what makes leaving Egypt so hard. Thankfully, coming back to Jersey where I have the greatest of friends and support is incredible. To me, Egypt and the United States both hold special places in my heart. To my parents, Egypt will always be their beloved homeland while America will always be home. In the end, their decision was part of a bigger plan and I am forever grateful that they gave us this opportunity, while still remaining in full contact of our Egyptian heritage.