Louise Kemprecos

Louise Kemprecos (nee Allen) was a very close friend of my mother's, and a wonderful friend she is, no matter that I was too immature to appreciate her and her husband, Jeff, sometimes.

I had asked Louise to write me some stories about her experiences with my mother. She graciously responded with a wonderful email, from which I offer the following excerpts (the comments inside the brackets are mine):

Dear Osama,

...in 2005, when I last spoke to her, your mom told me she had lost a lot of weight, and I was very surprised, because I had never known her to do that before. I asked her how she had done it, and she said, "The foods I like I'm not eating, and the foods I love I'm eating in small quantities." That was so typical of her, to be able to think a thing through right to its essence and go ahead and do it.

I don't know whether I need to tell you how much her friendship meant to me for many years. We first met at EQI, which I joined as a receptionist in 1984. She was my hero, then, going out to the zabaleen area and working to improve people's lives [the Zabaleen area is the largest garbage collector's community in Cairo]. Then you were living in Zamalek, in a homey but rather dark apartment. Later you moved to Mohandisin, to a wonderful house with a garden, and a lovely light kitchen. She loved to cook delicious meals for you, but I'm afraid you weren't always as appreciative as you could have been!

Your mom treasured old-fashioned values, I think, and old-fashioned experiences. She showed me how to take a raw [chicken] and cut it up, and told me a story of how she had once bought an entire cow with friends and had it butchered and split among them. That seemed a very old-world experience to me! A kind of farm country experience. We debated how to peel an onion most efficiently.

When Jeff and I got married, she gave us a wedding present that she knew we would love, a year's membership at the Swiss Club. I think you were still in Zamalek at the time, and the notion of going to a garden and sitting, talking, and playing seemed like a heaven to us all. That was a big improvement in her life, I think.

Professionally, of course I learned a lot from her. We worked on two projects together, a survey of hospitals in Imbaba, and a survey of households in a village in Edfu, Aswan, called ElAtwani. I loved that time. She was very close to a woman in ElAtwani, a kindred spirit.

If I have a better story to share with you, I will send it along. I was very attached to your family in those years, I remember how Osman would go off to school in the morning looking very trim, and come home dragging his bag behind him, right out of a Dennis the Menace cartoon, clothes all askew and dirty! I remember seeing Haddouta Masriya, I think three times!, because I couldn't really understand but wanted to. When Sarah was born I bought a stroller out for her from the US, and your mom loved pushing her all over Zamalek in it.

I think "Sheikhit ilhaara" is a term that would apply to your mom [Sheikhit ilhaara means, literally, "elderwoman of the alley." The implication is that my mother was a leader who was always genuinely interested in, and cared about, the lives of others--or something close.]

That is all for now,

Love to all, Louise.