Kentucky Fried Camel in Egypt: My Return to a Country I Never Left
“You don’t scream as the camel stands up,” Amina told me with a smile. “It must be your Egyptian blood.”
I patted my camel’s neck as he turned towards the pyramids. They stood, three majestic pieces of history, glistening out over the horizon. The sand blew into my eyes as my father barked at me to spin the camel around for a picture.
“Does the camel have a name?” I asked his owner, as I nudged for the camel to turn.
“Yes. He’s named KFC — Kentucky Fried Camel.” He laughed at his own joke. Egyptians had a deep, inexplicable love for KFC. Not a single person I had met had been able to explain why.
My father came up on the other side of KFC. He gazed out over the pyramids.
“Your homeland is pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
It took me 27 years to finally visit my father’s, and by extension, my homeland. My father had immigrated from Egypt in his 20’s to England, where he lived for 12 years before immigrating to America. He…
Categories: The Expeditioner