CAIRO, Egypt – After stepping out of the famed Egyptian Museum here and walking next door to the Coffee Shop Restaurant, a visitor is likely to meet Khaled Osman Mohamed, the manager. Khaled bears a striking resemblance to my cousin Walter Lynn Stuart, who lives in Nashville. Each is tall and slender, they have similar complexions and heads that could be politely described as follically-challenged.

If you ask Khaled to describe himself, he says without hesitation, “I’m Nubian.” When pressed, the Cairo-born manager says he is proud to be an Egyptian, but even prouder to be a Nubian, a term associated with dark-skinned people and a region along the Nile that joins Egypt and its southern neighbor, Sudan.

The city of Aswan, with its impressive skyline and chocolate-covered people, is the center of Nubian culture. A pamphlet published by the Egyptian Tourist Authority observes: “Here, the Nile is at its most beautiful, flowing through amber desert and granite rocks, round emerald islands covered in palm groves and tropical plants.”

But Nubia reeks of more than post-card beauty.

The first published reference to the term “Nubia” was by the Greek author Strabo in “Geographica.” He had visited the region in 29 B.C. and researchers believe Nubian is a derivative of the Egyptian word nub, meaning gold, for which the region is famous. But the history of the region dates back to 6000 B.C. Beginning around 1971 B.C., the region became known as Kush; the Kushites served as middlemen in the flourishing trade between Mediterranean countries and Africa. Four Kushite kings ruled Egypt for 50 years during the 25th Dynasty.

As one of my fellow journalists noted, walk around Aswan today you’ll meet yourself coming and going. If you don’t see anyone who resembles you, look around and you’ll undoubtedly spot someone who looks like a college roommate, a childhood friend or a co-worker.

In Cairo, an African-American is likely to be greeted as “cousin” by merchants trying to collect American dollars. By the time you get to Aswan, Black Americans are upgraded to “Brotha” and “Sisster.” There is an unbroken, and largely unspoken, link between the two peoples that neither slavery nor the Atlantic Ocean could sever.

Khaled introduced several of us to Hamdy Soliman Oushy, a Nubian who received his masters and doctorate degrees in agriculture from New Mexico State University. At a Nubian culture center in Cairo, where fellow Nubians meet each week to socialize and keep the past alive, Oushy points to a colorful painting that stretches around the room. Nubians are seen walking, working, and interacting.

Much of that history has been submerged – literally. In 1960, the High Dam was built, a 2-mile engineering phenomenon that provides electricity and irrigation for the nation. While the Egyptian government raved about the construction of the dam, not everyone was not pleased with the country’s version of urban renewal.

“Everything we had is now under water,” Oushy explains. “Our houses, our dead, our villages. My dream is to go back there one day and to have a house.” He also realizes that with each passing year, that becomes less likely to happen.

Relocated to large urban areas, such as Cairo, Nubians still hold a special place in their hearts for their native land and for African-Americans who visit Egypt.

Khaled, for example, gave his family a two-hour notice that he was bringing a half-dozen Black journalists he had just met home for dinner. His family, like many, has shared an apartment building for years. That alone helps account for the strong family tie. Khaled’s family embraced us as their own, making sure we had plenty to eat and that we were comfortable in their home.

Khaled has visited Winston-Salem, N.C. twice within the past decade, mostly to lecture about Nubian culture. He is familiar with all of the American sports and entertainment icons, from Michael Jackson to Michael Jordan.

“Everyone think Americans are rich,” says Khaled, who loves to joke. “Don’t tell them you’re from America. Tell them you’re from Sudan.”

He and his family speak proudly about their Nubian culture, how Nubians are known for their honesty and taking care of one another.

When asked earlier in the day what he missed about the United States, Khaled replied, “Seafood and Chinese food.”

At the mention of Chinese food, everyone groaned.

Later, Khaled suddenly remembered: “There is something that I miss more than anything else.”

And what is that?

“C.P. Time,” he said, with a big laugh.

When I heard Khaled longing for Colored People’s time, a less sophisticated way of saying fashionably late, I knew I had indeed found my Nubian brother.