Consumerism and Consumption
I finally got a day to do some unapologetic American tourism!
Yesterday I found myself much more anxious than I probably had any right to be. So instead of spending the day as an employee, I decided to spend the day as a tourist. My new friend and co-worker Ahmed was kind enough to offer to take me shopping so I made some very specific and well thought out clothing choices, hid my computer and my US cell phone, called the front desk and requested a taxi (with a working meter!) and tore out of the hotel.
I met Ahmed in his neighborhood which is across the Nile and fairly well-to-do. Lots of American shopping stores. We went into a Tommy Hilfiger for example. I don't have any idea why. I don't ever buy anything at Tommy back home. Why would I in Egypt? If you were wondering, the prices are ridiculous everywhere.
Anyway, we moved down the street to the bar we were destined for that evening. It honestly looked like a crappy apartment building. The front door was sea foam green and a strung-out wreath hung on the door. If you can imagine what a wreath would look like, sitting on a doorstep, all strung out and sucking mournfully on a cigarette, eyes uselessly glazed over, then you've gotten to where I'm at with this wreath. If not, feel free to skip ahead.
He rang the doorbell and I expected it to be answered by some guy named Carl with the "stuff we called about." But instead the door opened and miraculously an entire English pub waited behind it. With a small dance floor, full bar, a really pleasant patio and a couple of stray cats. This is, he tells me, The British Club, a members-only expat bar and they apparently expected a waiting list for New Years so we had to reserve our spots early.
From here we hopped into another cab and made our way to Khan El Khalili Bazaar. To paint the picture for you all, think of the most outstanding stereotype you can muster of an Egyptian square, and you've pretty much got it. There is a spiritual center and Mosque surrounded by a hodgepodge of Islamic architectural components. In the center is a square and some palm trees. On one end of the square lies the series of corridors that make up the bazaar.
Narrow, unpaved alley ways built on competing levels are lined with tiny store front after tiny store front. At least half of the vendors sell airport gift shop Egyptian kitsch. A tiny Sphinx! A pyramid jewelry box! Something pharonic and brightly colored! Most of the remaining shops are filled with jewelry. Some of it crap. A lot of it is really fabulous and they were selling the pieces by weight and totally disregarding the value of the materials. For example I am now wearing my favorite piece, a pure silver ring with abalone inlays I bought for probably 8 USD. Where as the huge blue, opalescent ring made of plastic that I just liked the look of would have cost me something more like 60 USD. Ridiculous, right? Needless to say, I bought a bunch of jewelry and pashminas and a dagger I'll be lucky to get past airport security. And I think I'm going back. My advice is shop with an Egyptian. Ahmed was kind enough to escort me through the bazaar and do all my haggling for me. I don't mine haggling, but I know we started the bidding way lower than if I had been sans escort.
After my wildly successful shopping venture, Ahmed took me to a restaurant nearby that he says is the flag ship for a really popular chain of restaurants in the area. Their specialty? Stuffed pigeon. Did I eat it? You're damn right I did. And drank the pigeon soup, which I think is just fresh and scalding pigeon broth, but who the hell knows. There is a distinct method for eating pigeon by the way. If you're curious, kill and cook me a pigeon and I'll show you sometime. It was at this point that I brought up the small elephants in the room. The cats. They're everywhere. I asked if they were tolerated because they kept rodents away. Ahmed says no, they're pets. When I asked if the three that were stalking my pigeon belonged to the store owner, he said "No. They are everyone's pets," as he gestures to all the storefronts in the alley. He didn't seem to think it warranted further explanation. Then he scared the butterscotch colored cat away with his foot.
We spent the next hour or so in a coffee shop. About every 30 seconds an 8 year old boy would try and get the American girl to buy a bracelet. Telling them no started to feel like scaring cats. Ahmed and I took this opportunity to talk about religion. Neither he nor I are particularly religious but we had a dandy time trying to put together our individual versions of the story of Moses and the Plagues of Egypt. God makes less of an appearance in his version. Although he did tell me about the moses fish. Apparently they are super thin and are called the moses fish because supposedly they were sliced in half when Moses split the Red Sea.
And that is how I learned about cats, pigeons and fish and the best way to buy jewelry in Egypt. Stay tuned for my next installment: New Years Eve in Cairo. I'll give you a hint. Ahmed's friends think I have magic powers now.
Yesterday I found myself much more anxious than I probably had any right to be. So instead of spending the day as an employee, I decided to spend the day as a tourist. My new friend and co-worker Ahmed was kind enough to offer to take me shopping so I made some very specific and well thought out clothing choices, hid my computer and my US cell phone, called the front desk and requested a taxi (with a working meter!) and tore out of the hotel.
I met Ahmed in his neighborhood which is across the Nile and fairly well-to-do. Lots of American shopping stores. We went into a Tommy Hilfiger for example. I don't have any idea why. I don't ever buy anything at Tommy back home. Why would I in Egypt? If you were wondering, the prices are ridiculous everywhere.
Anyway, we moved down the street to the bar we were destined for that evening. It honestly looked like a crappy apartment building. The front door was sea foam green and a strung-out wreath hung on the door. If you can imagine what a wreath would look like, sitting on a doorstep, all strung out and sucking mournfully on a cigarette, eyes uselessly glazed over, then you've gotten to where I'm at with this wreath. If not, feel free to skip ahead.
He rang the doorbell and I expected it to be answered by some guy named Carl with the "stuff we called about." But instead the door opened and miraculously an entire English pub waited behind it. With a small dance floor, full bar, a really pleasant patio and a couple of stray cats. This is, he tells me, The British Club, a members-only expat bar and they apparently expected a waiting list for New Years so we had to reserve our spots early.
From here we hopped into another cab and made our way to Khan El Khalili Bazaar. To paint the picture for you all, think of the most outstanding stereotype you can muster of an Egyptian square, and you've pretty much got it. There is a spiritual center and Mosque surrounded by a hodgepodge of Islamic architectural components. In the center is a square and some palm trees. On one end of the square lies the series of corridors that make up the bazaar.
Narrow, unpaved alley ways built on competing levels are lined with tiny store front after tiny store front. At least half of the vendors sell airport gift shop Egyptian kitsch. A tiny Sphinx! A pyramid jewelry box! Something pharonic and brightly colored! Most of the remaining shops are filled with jewelry. Some of it crap. A lot of it is really fabulous and they were selling the pieces by weight and totally disregarding the value of the materials. For example I am now wearing my favorite piece, a pure silver ring with abalone inlays I bought for probably 8 USD. Where as the huge blue, opalescent ring made of plastic that I just liked the look of would have cost me something more like 60 USD. Ridiculous, right? Needless to say, I bought a bunch of jewelry and pashminas and a dagger I'll be lucky to get past airport security. And I think I'm going back. My advice is shop with an Egyptian. Ahmed was kind enough to escort me through the bazaar and do all my haggling for me. I don't mine haggling, but I know we started the bidding way lower than if I had been sans escort.
After my wildly successful shopping venture, Ahmed took me to a restaurant nearby that he says is the flag ship for a really popular chain of restaurants in the area. Their specialty? Stuffed pigeon. Did I eat it? You're damn right I did. And drank the pigeon soup, which I think is just fresh and scalding pigeon broth, but who the hell knows. There is a distinct method for eating pigeon by the way. If you're curious, kill and cook me a pigeon and I'll show you sometime. It was at this point that I brought up the small elephants in the room. The cats. They're everywhere. I asked if they were tolerated because they kept rodents away. Ahmed says no, they're pets. When I asked if the three that were stalking my pigeon belonged to the store owner, he said "No. They are everyone's pets," as he gestures to all the storefronts in the alley. He didn't seem to think it warranted further explanation. Then he scared the butterscotch colored cat away with his foot.
We spent the next hour or so in a coffee shop. About every 30 seconds an 8 year old boy would try and get the American girl to buy a bracelet. Telling them no started to feel like scaring cats. Ahmed and I took this opportunity to talk about religion. Neither he nor I are particularly religious but we had a dandy time trying to put together our individual versions of the story of Moses and the Plagues of Egypt. God makes less of an appearance in his version. Although he did tell me about the moses fish. Apparently they are super thin and are called the moses fish because supposedly they were sliced in half when Moses split the Red Sea.
And that is how I learned about cats, pigeons and fish and the best way to buy jewelry in Egypt. Stay tuned for my next installment: New Years Eve in Cairo. I'll give you a hint. Ahmed's friends think I have magic powers now.
Comments
Post a Comment