Walking (a lot) like an Egyptian

Good afternoon! It's Friday, 3:30pm, here in Cairo. Because I'm waiting to hear from my friend, and he could call at any minute, I have to keep this short and clinical, as much as anything to refresh my memory at a later time, and at that point to then fill in the details. So let's go chronological.

Yesterday, instead of going to the Pyramids as I had planned (and as I told you in the last post), I slept in, and then spent the entire day walking, walking, walking, in circles and down the same streets here in DownTown over and over again. The initial objective was simply to find an HSBC automatic teller machine that I had spotted the other night; as it turned out, it may have been easier to find a needle in a haystack. After walking for two hours straight, a new objective materialized: to keep walking as a way to get to know the city, its character, its people, its pulse, and in doing so, to become comfortable with my place, ever so brief yet ever so important, in the city. I stopped at fruit juice stands to drink orange juice or a cocktail mix (basically a fruit punch). I went into local dive restaurants to eat ful, or falafel tamia, or koshary. Towards evening I spent an hour at a local tea bar (although that sounds way too fancy for what it really is: a place for men to hang out and observe the streetscape and its goings-on); there I casually drank four chai (hot tea, of course), while playing my role in observing the city life and then taking some time to read the first part of the first chapter of The Trial by Franz Kafka (hilarious in its absurdity, I couldn't help laughing out loud several times). At some point in the day -- how can I remember when? -- I found the ATM, which at that point had become a mere pitstop in my minor hajj.

During my meanderings a mid-20-something guy came up to me and began speaking to me in English. I told him that I was hungry and if he could suggest a good place for koshary; he escorted me and we began talking of course. He then invited me to his business, a perfume shop, so that I could sit down and enjoy my food. Then he brought me up to the second floor of the shop to talk to me confidentially about my energy, which he said was essentially positive, but showed a little bit of stress, which conveniently enough (as I came to realize) he would be able to help me relieve, for a price not named or mentioned until I was totally roped in. Looking back I now know that the Cairo salesman is very subtle in his techniques, befriending you at first, then appearing to do you a favor in your own self-interest, then only at the very end bringing up the issue of price; which, to a freshman like me, was totally unexpected. Having to suddenly bargain for a product which I didn't know that I was going to buy is a bit disconcerting, but then you've gotta do what you've gotta do to protect yourself from being suckered. In the end I bought a bottle of perfume, supposedly tailored for my specific needs, at a third of the price that he wanted me to pay; and even still, from what others have told me, I probably paid a bit too much. Oh well, so it goes.

In the late evening, I came back to my hostel to hang out in the lobby with an Australian girl, a U.S. guy from Seattle, and a U.S. guy from Baltimore. It was a good conversation; all I'll say now is that the girl was talking mostly about relationships between Egyptians and foreigners, and their gender-specific permutations. This was going on when all of a sudden Roland steps off the lift, sees me, and says let's go. Totally reflexively I grabbed my bag, shook hands and left.

The night was really good. Roland, an Egyptian girl named Ruby and her brother Karim, and I went to a very fancy bar/lounge called Cairo Jazz Club. A live band, named Screwdriver, played really great music, from The Beatles to Bon Jovi. This was also one of the rare places that serves alcohol in Egypt, so I had my chance to try a Stella and a Sakkara, two of Egypt's three domestic beers. Apparently the crowd represented the young high society of Cairo, as well as some foreigners too.

This morning, knowing that it is my last day in Cairo, I got myself going early to the Pyramids. I took the microbus from Tahrir to Haram, not too far from the Pyramids, and walked the rest of the way there. Once there, I rode a camel, went through a very narrow and claustrophobic passageway underneath the big Second Pyramid, then rode a horse with a nice Egyptian named Sayid in order to take some nice photos of all the Pyramids at once.

Sayid explained to me the four types of Egyptians: Bedouin, Arab, Western-style city-dwellers, and Nubians. He also told me that very few Americans go to the Pyramids; nearly all the tourists there are Europeans. He didn't like the fact that the Americans that do go there are all there in packaged tours, and that this means that these tourists only contact with Egyptians is with their tour guide and bus driver. Sayid said that he really appreciated that I, as an American, took the time to talk with him and he was happy to hear that I was riding public transportation on my own in his country. I told him that I definitely agreed with him, and that tourists who only want to see the Pyramids without experiencing authentic Egyptian culture should just look them up in an encyclopedia.

As an aside here, though, I realize that many of the American tourists are seniors, so for them it might be advisable if not necessary to travel in an organized tour. Otherwise, I really feel like it is a form of (unintentionally? ego- & ethno-centric) cultural arrogance to visit foreign tourist sites without any other intercultural exchange.

Back to the story, though, Sayid's horse that I rode was named Aziza; it was awesome. I also took some photos of the Sphinx (I solved the riddle) before leaving. From there I walked for a couple of kilometers, then caught a public bus from there to Giza Square, where I got out and caught the Metro back to Tahrir. All along the way, I asked people where to go, and everyone was friendly and helpful, even if they spoke little or no English. I'm telling you, it IS possible to travel in countries where you don't speak the language, as long as you're willing to put yourself out there and dive in headfirst. The bus and the metro cost a total of 1.5 Egyptian pounds, or about a quarter in the U.S.; not bad, and to travel and be with the people on top of it, excellent!

So this is longer than I thought, and I'm sure I can fill in more details later. For now I have to go to see if I can contact Roland. Although he has to go to an Egyptian wedding tonight, and I can attend, I think I'll respectfully decline due to the fact that I have no professional -- or even clean -- clothing with me, and I would really like to go to the bazaar to get a few things before our 2:25am (yes: am) flight later tonight. Thus, my next post will probably be from somewhere in Germany.

I hope all is well with you back home, and I pray that everyone is happy and healthy. With that, I'll sign off from Cairo, Egypt. Check it, check it out!