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changed me. The overwhelming emotional generosity of Egyptians has worn down any reticence or reserve I once possessed, and I find myself a more impassioned, more open person for it. Having been brought up in a one-child household, far from my roots, I know now what it means to be part of an extended family, and the contentment this can bring, for all its constraints. I have far greater respect for my elders than I ever did growing up in a society that prizes youth above all. And I now have a better understanding of Islam, which has only served to increase my adherence to a faith that, I believe, gives me both freedom and direction in my life.
    I also have not just affection and gratitude, but a deep admirationfor people across the region who welcomed me so warmly into their lives—not just the customary hospitality extended to strangers, but an acceptance as one of their own. It isn’t easy, on the face of it. There’s nothing remotely Arab about my appearance (I have the fair features of my Welsh mother and a figure that’s more arrow than Arabesque); my Arabic is far from perfect; and my upbringing is a world away from their own. But people were able to look beyond these differences, and we managed to connect through our shared sense of humor and an unexpected personal affinity. If they can make even me feel at home, then I am hopeful that societies in the region will find a way to accommodate diversity.
    It takes a staggering lack of introspection to spend so much time probing other people’s personal lives and to not occasionally question one’s own. Until I met Azza, and Amany, and the many other women in this book, I never fully recognized the good fortune of my upbringing. My parents raised me to think I could do anything, be anything, and the men who later came into my life—friends, colleagues, mentors, and husband—have never treated me as anything less than equal, in all domains. My years in Egypt have given me a keen appreciation of the value of growing up in a liberal democracy, where I was taught a respect for diversity and a tolerance of others, however much their lives differed from my own.
    I look forward to a day when these values are reflected not just in the politics of the Arab world, but in private lives as well. It took a revolt to shake up politics in Egypt, and even then, change is far from smooth and steady. I am skeptical of any seismic shift in sexual life. Sexual attitudes and behaviors anywhere in the world are tightly intertwined in myriad threads of past and present. Weaving a different tapestry needs a new pattern, and that will take decades to unfold. Change is coming to Egypt; not a sexual revolution, I think, but a sexual reevaluation, in which people will one day have the education, the inclination, and the freedom to take an unblinkered view of what they were, how they came to be what they are, and what they could be in the years to come. The confidence and creativity of Arab civilization was once reflected in itssexual life. For the first time in a long time, we have a chance to see this again—not by gazing at our past, but by looking to our future.
    With the sun setting over Cairo, I left the Citadel through a massive gateway and walked down its steep drive. As I climbed into a taxi, my driver asked me where we were heading. I told him the address but explained I didn’t know how to get there. “No problem,” he said. “We’ll find the way, God willing.” And with that, we slipped into the fast-flowing traffic and plunged into the city below.

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