As protests in Egypt began to escalate last week, I casually mentioned at the dinner table what I would give to be in Cairo right now. I was given an incredulous look – the one that says, “Are you an idiot, Sarah?” and a stern shake of the head.

That Friday, I was streaming Al Jazeera’s coverage of Tahrir Square live over my computer at work. I was met with the question of, “What’s that noise? What’s happening in the Middle East?”

In fewer words: a revolution.

Last week, angry Tunisians successfully protested to overthrow their government of over 23 years in a “Jasmine” revolt. I have never been to Tunisia, but still followed along nonetheless. It was a proud moment for human rights and the potential end of oppression. It was inspiring, so much so that Egypt has followed suit. But I was still more or less detached the situation in the North African country. Now, I can’t turn off the news as Egyptian students, intellectuals and middle classmen protest in Tahrir Square.  I spent nearly a month in Egypt; and more than a week in Cairo, making Egyptian friends in a hostel and cafes at the very Square where the protests are centered. I traveled from Taba to Cairo and up to Alexandria (one of my favorite cities). Then I went down to Hurghada and through Suez and into Dahab and Sinai. I didn’t see all the sites, but the people I met certainly made up for it.

After having lived in Bangkok during Thailand’s time of political unrest and red shirt protests from March to May 2010, I feel like I better understand calls of a protest. For me, the protests in Egypt and the pictures coming over the news aren’t of angry, faceless citizens. They have a face and a voice that I heard during my time in the desert country.

Over the past week, I’ve been thinking of one person in particular, Ahmed Ghazy. I’ve been signing onto Skype more often to see if he’s logged in and checking his Facebook wall, now flooded with foreign friends checking in on him and his family. The constant Facebook chats of, “Hi dear!” that used to seem annoying are now noticeably absent. I met Ahmed on an overnight bus from Cairo to Dahab. The bus left at almost 10 p.m. and I was a solo, Western female on a bus filled with older Egyptian men. I wasn’t afraid, but a little weary of falling asleep in uncomfortable and unfamiliar surroundings. Ahmed sat down next to me and immediately introduced himself. He was 26, just finishing up school and dreadfully awaiting word if he would be called into the Army instead of being able to continue on with his career in medicine. He was headed to Dahab to meet some friends for a celebration.

Through the next 8 hours, I didn’t sleep. But it wasn’t because I was uncomfortable. I was engaged in conversation. We talked about Egyptian politics and his disdain for Mumbarak. We talked about American politics, relations in the Middle East, the then-fresh flotilla incident in Turkey. We talked of morals and religion. I was comfortable telling him I was Jewish and had just spent time visiting close friends in Israel. And of course, we talked about popular culture, technology, music and TV. In Dahab, we shared nightly dinners and I met his friends. We snorkeled and shared more stories of what it’s like growing up in our respective countries. By the end of my time in Dahab, Ahmed became my friend.

There are other people I met in Cairo that I think of – strolling along Al Azhar Park with Travels of Adam and Liz Koch. We learned how to write in Arabic that night, and also broached the topic of politics. Like I think about Ahmed, I wonder where they are and how they’re involved in the Egyptian revolution right now as I type.

I guess I’m not terribly shocked by what’s happening in Egypt. I have some concerns over what will happen when Mumbarak is eventually ousted; mainly the 1978 Camp David Accords and the relative peace between Egypt and Israel. The destruction of that tie will shake the Middle East to its core. But at the same time, basic human rights like freedom of speech and religion, and a fair democracy with an elected president are not irrational demands. They are demands that should be met in all parts of the world and United States should back the protesters’ calls for these rights.

In a recent post by Gary Arndt, he succinctly put it this way:

“There are many reason to travel, but the empathy you develop for other places might be the greatest. It converts a news story from anonymous people in an unknown place to people with a face. Ultimately, if you want to understand the rest of the world, to really understand it, you have to visit it yourself.”