Cairo – My Introduction to Egypt

 

 

Cairo, with a population of 20 million, is a city bulging at the seams. The cacophony of street vendors, honking cars, and prayers announced over loudspeakers at mosques is enough to drive a novice traveller right back onto a departing flight. Add the demonstrations at Tahrir square, and this is a city that is never dull.

After a great week of nostalgia in London, I arrived in Cairo after midnight on September 1st due to a delayed flight. Taking an arranged car from the airport to my hotel was a lesson in contrasting cities. There is no orderly traffic; two lanes in London or America are three lanes here. In fact, lanes are an afterthought. There are no rules on the road. The only rule is the honk of a horn to alert another car to make space, pull over, or get out of the way. Flashing the lights of your car signals the driver to speed up and get out of your way. Cars and motorcycles weave in and out of traffic as if their life was of no consequence. It’s as if drivers in Cairo have nine lives, and they are only on their fourth or fifth.

Traffic at 1:00AM was anything but empty. We hit a traffic jam almost immediately out of the airport and traffic was congested all the way to the hotel. The intense heat of the sun means that early morning and late night are times of movement and life in Cairo. Yes, I was going to need to adapt quickly if I wanted to make my way through Cairo and Egypt.

 

 

 

 

Papyrus and The Bear

I made it safely to my hotel on the west bank of the Nile river. After a fitful night of sleep I decided to walk around and familiarize myself with the surrounding area. I walked across the Nile into the downtown district, which included the Egyptian Museum, an orange structure which stands in direct contrast to the drab browns of the buildings around it. As I was making my way around and trying to find the museum, I was approached by a smiling, seemingly kind man who asked “Egyptian Museum?” to which I responded, “Yes”. He pointed in the direction of the museum and said “Cairo streets are winding and twisting. Hard to find your way around!”. I agreed since I just landed last night and my acquaintance with the surrounding area consisted of about 45 minutes of walking aimlessly up and down streets. I thanked him and headed in that direction. He then followed me, and we made our way safely across the street, which in Cairo is never a guaranteed outcome. He asked me where I was from and where I was staying. Upon telling him I was from America he extolled the many great virtues of America, including an enthusiastic two thumbs up for Obama. Of course he had relatives in America, yes, from the Rockies. It was once he said he was an artist and drew and sold papyrus that I became aware of what was happening.

I should stop here and let you in on a little secret about Egypt. Actually, it’s no secret at all but still something that is easy to get sucked into as a newcomer. Lonely Planet lays it out in a section on Cairo titled “Scams & Hassles”. It is right there in the book, and I read it before I touched down in Cairo, but it is still a bit easy to let your guard down until you yourself have been hassled. Lonely Planet goes so far as to mention scams and hassles occurring near the Egyptian Museum in which a “charming chap approaches foregners to ask if they’re looking for the museum entrance”. If the answer is yes then they amicably chat with the foreigner as they make their way toward the museum and then at the last minute veer into a shop to have a tea. They then start the hard sell.

Ok, back to the current situation. My newfound acquaintence, who in fact really found me, and was telling me anything to keep me with him, was easily herding me right into a shop of his friend. The shop was directly across the street from the museum, and he insisted I stop in and have a hospitality drink to commemmorate our friendship. I walked in and immediately knew I made a mistake. My gut was telling me halfway through the walk that something was wrong, but my novice traveler naiveity did not pick up on the signals.

The shop, which was slightly under street level, consisted of two long beat up black leather couches facing each other and a glass coffee table in the middle. Pictures and postcards littered the table underneath the glass, and I soon found out why. As soon as we sat down an enormous man lumbered down the steps into the shop. At least 6’5″ and 300 pounds, he was an immense presence. With piercing eyes, massive girth, and an egregious manner, he began talking at a speed and without interruption for so long that I didn’t even know what to do. It was exactly as if I had walked into the shop of a used car salesman and was suddenly being given the rundown. Of course my new acquaintance had been all over America, and told me all about his time there. He showed me the various pictures and postcards adorning the underside of the glass on the coffee table. I’ll be honest, this guy talked so much and about so many things that I lost my train of though about a quarter of the way into it and just stopped listening. It was clear I needed to make my way out of here so I began looking for how I was going to get past this bear of a man and make my escape up the stairs. The first thing I needed to do was figure out how to get off the couch and get him to not block the stairs.

The Bear asked me what I wanted to drink in order to toast our new friendship. It was a hospitatlity drink and it must be done. He talked mournfully about the Revolution on January 28th and how it hurt his shop, including a crack in the ceiling. I’m not quite sure I believe that crack occurred in 2011; it’s possible it had been there since 1980. Anyway, he would not take no for an answer regarding a drink, so I said a 7-Up would be fine. The Bear then sent Papyrus out to get a drink. I didn’t see Papyrus again until I left the shop.

The Bear then launched into his hard sell. Perfume. It was a perfume shop, and now I knew why there were dusty old bottles lining the shelves of the shop. The Bear pushed lotus, jasmine, rose, and other scents right into my nose, telling me how the girls will not let me out of their sight once I put this on. He told me how crazy expensive these perfumes were in America and how cheap they were in Egypt. He asked if I had a girlfriend. Uh-oh. How do I answer this one? I went with yes. I think it would not have mattered either way, but now I needed to buy perfume for my lady. He said I should buy some for me, my family, my friends, and next time I come back I won’t want the small bottle but the huge bottle. The girls will go mad once I put this perfume on! The Bear insisted I buy a bottle to commemmorate his shop and our friendship and me being the first American to visit him since the Revolution. It would be a dishonor to not give him luck by buying. Now he was putting me in a bind. I certainly did not want to dishonor the man or give bad luck to the shop. Yet a little voice in my head kept saying, “who knows if what he is saying is really true or if it is all just a ruse in order to get you to buy something”. The Bear asked me what hotel I was staying at, what I did for a living, and what my favorite perfume was. I answered the lotus, and he stepped behind his counter to grab a small bottle and pour perfume in it. Here was my chance. The stairs were no longer blocked. I stood up and positioned myself between him and the stairs. After many back-and-forths regarding me politely declining his various reasons why I needed to buy the perfume, including the “I give you a discount because you are so nice and smile a lot”, I finally shook his hand with both my hands, politely declined for the fifteenth time, placed my hand over my heart, declined for the sixteenth time, and made my escape up the stairs.

Sunlight. Freedom. And Papyrus sitting on a chair talking to another man. So much for my hospitality drink to toast our friendship. I hurried my way out of there. Papyrus called after me, “American friend, where you going?”. I didn’t answer but kept on my way.

Later that night as I replayed the scene over and over it became clear the many mistakes I had made. Letting my friendly nature intervene started the debacle. Asking what hotel I was staying at and what job I had were indicators of how much money I had. These are all lessons learned and sometimes even if it is listed in a guidebook you have to place your hand on the oven in order to understand that it is hot and will burn you.

 

 

 

Lesson Learned

I continued my walk around the downtown area, slowly making my way towards Tahrir Square. I rounded the corner of the Egyptian Museum and was walking when I noticed a man in his twenties approach. Friendly and amicable, he asked where I was from. I answered America. “Ah, America! Where?”. I said Iowa and he said he studied at a university in Kalamazoo, Michigan. He came back to Egypt and his shop is just across the street. Would I walk with him to his shop so that he could give me his business card? I said no, I am heading in the other direction towards the square. He became disappointed. All I had to do was cross the street with him and then I could continue on towards the square. Again I said no. He asked “Why not? It is just over there. You come with me and then you can go.” I politely declined again and continued on my way.

By the time a third person approached me and asked where I was from I ignored him and kept on my way. Lesson learned. In most of Egypt you will be approached by touts or other people who want you to get you to their shop in order to sell you something. It’s hard at first to not be friendly, but you quickly realize that it is not going to help you any by engaging in conversation. A quick no thank you (La Shukran in Arabic) and continuing on your way is the best course of action.