Did you know there's an Egyptian temple in Chino Hills? We went for a visit
Having yet to travel to Egypt, I have always wanted to enter the Pharaohs' lands. To saunter where kings and queens who ruled over a vast empire for thousands of years once strolled.
I am sure they could saunter much better than I - a mere travel writer compared to earthly gods.
One historical site on my list is the Great Temple of Abu Simbel. That hand-hewn monument in honor of Rameses the Great was finished in 1244 BC.
Rumor had it, and alluded to in a poem by Percy Shelley, Rameses used to state, “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair.”
In the 1960s, the Egyptian Government decided to build the Aswan High Dam, and the temple was physically moved so it would not be buried beneath the blue waters of the huge reservoir.
“What? Move the bloody temple?” one worker was said to have said to another.
And move it they did, to higher and drier ground.
Not an easy task, but no one can downplay what the Egyptians can do, past or present.
However, there are those who believe space aliens built the ancient pyramids and temples scattered across the vast desert landscape of Egypt.
“Where are the aliens when we need them today?” Another construction worker may have asked as he donned his hard hat and climbed onto the John Deere tractor.
So, when my daughter Erica asked if I had seen the Egyptian temple in Chino Hills, I was speechless.
“They moved the Great Temple of Abu Simbel all the way here from the western bank of Lake Nasser?”
Erica rolled her eyes; she got that talent from her mother and my darling wife, Laureen.
I drove to Chino Hills to look into this matter - an Egyptian temple in Southern California.
As I pulled into the large shopping complex, The Commons At Chino Hills, at the Southeast corner of Chino Hills Parkway and Ramona Avenue, I was taken aback by the large sandy-white obelisk.
Molded into the sides of this obelisk was simply: The Commons.
There was nothing ordinary about these Commons.
Passing by BJ’s Brewhouse, the Corner Bakery Cafe, The Boiler, and other fine eating establishments, I looked through my windshield and saw the structure I had been searching for.
Sitting alone at the end of the large black asphalt parking lot of The Commons was the Great Temple of Abu Simbel.
It appeared just as it did in my research of the actual temple in Egypt.
It turns out this building was supposed to house the Farou Food restaurant, featuring Egyptian delicacies.
Nothing better than rice-stuffed vegetables, grape leaves, falafel, shawarma, and kabobs, all washed down with a small glass of Arak with water and ice.
The restaurant was started in 2019, but construction stopped when the COVID pandemic interrupted daily life. It has sat unfinished to this day.
I wandered around the property, taking photos of the exterior and some of the interior through gorgeous, albeit dust-smudged, metal and glass doors. Wooden planks and carpenter equipment still sit inside the building as though the workers were on a break.
A huge stained-glass ceiling beckons would-be diners to stare up and take in the nighttime sky as they hungrily dig into plates of steaming food while possibly listening to the singer, Ahmed Adaweyah, through hidden speakers.
As I was standing there admiring the architecture, Abdullah Khan, Supervisor over security and management for the complex, drove up on his gas-powered golf cart.
He is a major bigwig with Global Security Concepts, who is in charge of maintaining The Commons At Chino Hills and other locations. He has been working at this particular site for 13 years.
“It was supposed to be finished years ago,” Khan said. “Before everything shut down due to COVID.”
I nodded. “Will it open, or is that dream dead?”
The well-built bearded man smiled. “Yes, I understand it will finally open in 2024. The project has much work to complete, but the owner is anxious to have the restaurant up and running finally.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” I said. The entire exterior facade should be able to fool any archeologist. The way the four sitting Rameses, the hieroglyphs, and the stone's color seemed just recently cut from queries along the Nile River.
“Everything you see here,” Khan said, as he walked me around the exterior of the building, “was handcrafted in Egypt and brought here. This material is only found in Egypt, not locally.”
I was amazed. “Did they use Nile barges and sail it here all the way here from Egypt?”
Khan looked at me, probably wondering if I already had one too many Araks.
“No, container ships,” he said. “I was here when the various parts were delivered and pieced back together. It was something to see.”
He then pointed to various areas where seams were barely visible, indicating how the stone facade had been carefully reconstructed to make the building seem almost seamless.
It was a masterful job worthy of the pharaohs themselves.
I mentioned the interior and how much work was left.
“Yes, and the ceilings will be painted beautifully,” he said. “I understand the painters will have to hang on their backs to create the scenes the owner wants his customers to view.”
“Sort of like Michelangelo,” I said. “Except he was on a scaffold and not swinging through the air like the Flying Wallendas.”
He looked at me in silence. I think his eyes may have rolled.
“Never mind.”
“Even the doors are going to be changed out,” Khan said. “The owner wants something more special. More elegant.”
I wondered if I could contact the owner to acquire the present doors—thick dark metal frames embedded with etched glass and beautiful metal designs.
They would look fantastic on our motorhome. Well, maybe.
As a person walks around this incredibly detailed structure, one starts to understand the owner's dreams. This was a place that would make a difference in the community.
Sure, it was to make a monetary profit. Simple fact, as any business in a free-market society desires, but there's the rub. Making a profit for this owner also involved taking financial and emotional risks.
Anyone gazing upon this building will know a considerable amount of money was invested - not just in leasing from the shopping center, but the cost of moving so much material from Egypt to Southern California, the number of workers it took to recreate this temple, and the amount of ‘red-tape’ that is always involved in building anything in a community.
And these are probably only the beginning of the costs.
Why do people take such risks here?
A young man soon delivered my answer on an immaculate classic Honda motorcycle.
I met Ray as he drove up and parked his motorcycle in front of the restaurant. Dressed in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and white sneakers, he wandered a bit, smiled, and came over to me.
“I have lived here for years and did not know this establishment was here,” Ray said, with a slight Asian accent.
“My daughter told me about it,” I replied. “Thought I’d check it out.”
Ray was from China and immigrated to the United States, obtaining his immigration papers on Veteran’s Day in 2014.
“I did that on purpose,” he stated. “I wanted to receive permission to be here in this country on the day you honor those who fought to keep your society free.”
His sincerity touched me.
“I became an American citizen in 2021,” Ray said.
“Welcome to the States,” I replied. “How do you like America?”
He paused and looked up at the four sitting images of Ramesses, “How do you like America?”
“No better place to live,” I said. “I have been fortunate enough to have traveled to dozens of countries, and nothing compares to here.”
Ray nodded. “You know, I have many friends still in China, and you know what baseball hat they wear the most?”
I shook my head.
“Ones that have Los Angeles on it, and they have never been here,” Ray replied. “But they dream about what it would like to be.”
We chit-chatted a moment or two before he climbed onto his motorcycle and drove away.
Before leaving, I looked at the building and knew why people pursue their dreams here in America.
Ray had explained it.
John can be contacted at beyersbyways@gmail.com
This article originally appeared on Victorville Daily Press: Egyptian Temple Museum in Chino Hills full of fascinating relics
