A Stranger in a Strange Land

July Letters-05

29th July, 2026.

(P.S: This letter was written in July 2026 by a participant in our pen-pal project, addressed to their pen pal. We’re sharing it here with permission. July’s theme was A letter from my corner of the world..)

Dear Stranger,

I hope your corner of the world, wherever it is, is filled with peace, beauty, and kindness.

First, I apologize for the roller coaster I’m about to take you on. I know talking about one’s corner of the world shouldn’t be complicated, but for me, as well as many others, it’s not a straightforward affair. Like millions of fellow humans out there, I’m an immigrant, or an expat, or whatever term you’d like to use. And for people like me, we no longer have one corner because home becomes a mix of where you grew up (where you were) and where you live (where you are). And sometimes, home is everywhere and nowhere.

That was not always the case, though. If you’d asked me where home was 20 years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated for one second before saying Cairo, Egypt—crazy, busy, one-of-a-kind Cairo.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Cairo, Dear Stranger, but what I do know is that if you haven’t been to Cairo in the ‘90s or early 2000s, then you haven’t seen my Cairo. And if you’ve been but didn’t explore it with a local, then you haven’t seen my Cairo either.

My Cairo, my corner-of-the-world Cairo, is the middle-class apartment in the bougie neighbourhood where I grew up, where I watched my parents put our education above everything else, where my parents—mainly my mom—did everything they could to raise me and my sister to become citizens of the world, from playing classical music in the apartment to getting us internet and cable as soon as they became available.

It’s going to the neighbourhood Pizza Hut on the weekends, before I even realized it was an American franchise. It’s spending summer days with my school friends at the public library in our neighbourhood—the public library that was part library and part social club. I remember going there with my sister and our friends, then going our separate ways: me straight to the library, where I’d spend hours devouring all sorts of stories, and them off to do all sorts of fun activities. But don’t get the wrong idea—I eventually joined them too. Then we’d leave the library in the late afternoon and get into all sorts of mischief around the neighbourhood. God, did I love those little adventures exploring the secrets of that hundred-year-old neighbourhood.

My Cairo, Dear Stranger, is my big extended family; our gatherings every single weekend, hating every part of them, then spending the whole week missing the messiness and warmth of it all. It’s the first day of Ramadan, when we all gathered for the biggest feast you could ever imagine. It’s the familiar, warm smell of home-cooked food that wafts over you the minute you set foot in any Egyptian household at dinnertime. Nothing smells like home-cooked Egyptian food. It simply smells like home.

My Cairo is the collective joy of Eid. The excitement of breaking in my new Eid outfit and doing the rounds to family homes where tea and Eid biscuits are simply mandatory. My Cairo is having our Christmas tree up until January 10 because we celebrate Christmas on January 7. It’s celebrating every holiday like it’s the big one (God, I miss our public holiday calendar!). It’s the freshest fruit, the most delicious guavas, and the sweetest watermelon. It’s how your neighbours automatically become an extension of your family, and how your family—both given and chosen—will always have your back. It’s friends fighting over who gets to pay the bill because everyone passionately believes they should. It’s madness and warmth and passion and chaos. It’s where I became who I am today. And it will always be part of my corner of the world, which now happens to be London.

I love that I get to call myself a Londoner. Being the city girl that I am, I fell in love with the city the minute I landed there. I love the crowds, the rush, the Tube. I love how everyone has somewhere to be, and how we’re all connected by how hard we have to work every single day to earn our place in this beautiful city, and how we’re all strangers in a foreign land. I love the parks, the restaurants, the music, the arts... and Covent Garden. I think Covent Garden is one of the happiest places in the whole world.

You know, Dear Stranger, there are two regular performers there who fill my heart with so much joy: the Charlie Chaplin tribute artist and an older gentleman who puts on a magnificent marionette dance show.

But where I most feel at home? The theatre.

From the West End’s grand productions, flashy marquees, and awe-inspiring historic theatres to the always-welcoming brilliance of the National Theatre, whether it’s a play, a musical, a one-person show, a revival, or a brand-new piece, theatre has become my newly found home.

I hope, Dear Stranger, that wherever you go, you’ll always find a place you can call home.

A Stranger in a Strange Land

With Love, Anonymous

This letter was written as part of our global pen-pal exchange —“With Love, Anonymous.”

Each month, hundreds of readers around the world write and receive letters on life, love, and becoming.

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