Middle grade fiction from the perspective of a ten year old boy stuck in Cairo for the summer of 1982.  Without all the amenities of American suburban life, he is faced with the challenge of accepting and embracing life in Egypt, even if for a few months.  

He spends his first few weeks as a tourist, getting to know his father's country from the shield of a bus, tour group, souvenir shop and hotel.  After this period ends, he is faces with days of haggling over produce in the market, trying to catch the bus that won't stop, fighting off beggars in the street and constant boredom.  

He tries to fight his boredom by going to the corner store and buying comics, chocolate cigarettes and Schwepps soda, but it's no use.  It won't end.  

Then one day, he stumbles on his cousin sleeping.  She had forgotten to lock the door, but didn't wake when he barged into her room to see if she wanted to play crazy 8's.  She was lying on her back, her jet black hair draped on either side of her chest.  Her bosom exposed down to her breasts.  He tried to fight the urge, but it was stronger than the last time.  She was not awake to stop him.  He waved his hand over her face.  No movement.  She was in a deep sleep.  So he thought he would just act like he was swatting a mosquito.  If she woke, she would thank him.  He continued to wave his hands closer and closer to her chest.  Then he slowed his movement, getting nearer and nearer to the mounds of her breasts.  Before he knew it he was lightly caressing the bouncy flesh above her nipples.

Then suddenly he saw her bounce up and pull the covers over her chest.  But he was falling backwards.  No.  Someone was pulling him backwards.  It was his mother.  She dragged him out of the bedroom and into the room they shared.  

     "I don't ever want to see you lay a hand on your cousin like that.  Ever!  Do you hear me?"

     I sat there stunned.  My body was still heaving from the excitement of being so close to a girl.  

     "Do you hear me?"

     "Yes mother."

     "Now you're going to sit here and think about what you've done."

     She left the room and came back with my cousin's dictionary.  

     "Respect.  Look it up and start copying."

In the midst of working up the nerve to get started, he discovers an old box.  Inside the box were files.  Inside each file was a letter.  The letters dated back to 1953. 

Could be told as a flashback.  He, as  a grown man, stumbles upon his papyrus diary after thirty years and recalls the summer now as a father himself.