#17 in a series on the life of William Borden, the millionaire missionary who died en route to China's Gansu Province, adapted from his biography (BordenofYale.com, January 1, 2024).
In March of 1913, Borden wrote the following, expressing surprise that he might actually pass for a local:
At one place, while I was waiting for the others, I was asked by a woman to read an Arabic letter for her. I was wearing the fez, of course. And later in the evening when we met a drunken Muslim who was rather talkative, he addressed me as “Mahmoud Effendi”—Mahmoud being a Muslim name!
Not only the Egyptian women took him for a native. An American gentleman and his family who visited Cairo about this time had a similar experience. They put up at Shepheard’s (Hotel), and in the evening went out to see if they could find any preaching going on. Mr. J. S. Kimber recalled:
Only a few steps from the hotel, we found one of the mission halls. Near the door we saw a man who, though he was wearing a fez, we thought might understand English. While I was asking him one or two questions, my eldest son came up and said, “I think I must have met you at Princeton. Are you not Mr. Borden?”
To my surprise the stranger said he was. He then gave us all the information we needed, and volunteered to guide us amid the tremendous scenes of the celebration of Mahomet’s birthday.
Sometime later. . . I saw our friend in the lobby talking with a lady from the States, a young graduate from Mount Holyoke. I asked my son whether it would notbe worthwhile for him to wait until the conversation was finished, and then to invite Mr. Borden to have a late dinner with us.
After remonstrating a little about not being suitably dressed, or something of that sort, Borden consented. The dinner was pretty well under way when he joined us at the table. He took his seat smilingly, and at once bowed his head in a reverent and silent “blessing.” It was a beautiful sight, and one, as we remarked, not often seen at Shepheard’s.