I’m still in Upper Egypt (which is actually the southern part of Egypt, considered upper Egypt because of the way the Nile flows—which, unlike other rivers, moves from south to north). We’re taking our third round-trip flight to get to Abu Simbel where we’ll see another ancient Egyptian temple. We just came from the Aswan Dam—2 trillion tons of stone blocking the Nile from its regular flooding but also the silt which would otherwise fertilize the agriculture along the Nile.
But it’s time for a break from the chronoligical account from my travels to describe a few phenomena here. I’ll start with one of my favorite things to visit anywhere I travel—the market. I’ve been to three markets now, one I described briefly in Alexandria, another in the old part of Cairo known as Islamic Cairo, and a third last night in Aswan. Additionally, every historic monument, aside from lots of armed guards (the government wants to ensure that no more of the tourists are threatened after the few bombings that have occurred in other parts of the country in the 90s) has a group of stalls selling traditional Egyptian handicrafts. I’ll try to offer some general terms about what you might find at these locations.
First, the markets are social experience. I know not to expect a sticker on most prices and that I’ll have to barter. I hear from the men who work at each small stall (few women are working there, presumably because the tradition of society is to keep them out of such experiences):
Hey, you want two camels?
Today you are a queen, which queen you want to be?
Where are you from? America? Oh, Alaska!
I have many beautiful things, all pure silver and gold, just have a look.
You want a scarf? Pure cotton, come inside.
Here’s one used on the men, “Hey, Rambo, what’s the matter? You don’t want to make eye contact with me?”
And then, after you have refused to drink tea or Turkish coffee with the merchants and start the bargaining, it goes something like this:
“How much is this?”
“For you, good price, Egyptian price,” he begins with a broad smile and leans a little closer to me. “170 Egyptian pounds,” he says with great satisfaction, as if the deal is complete.
“Ahh,” I start with a conciliatory tone, “That’s still too high for me, how about a better price?”
“Well, for you, I can make a big discount,” then he rubs his chin for a moment, pulls his calculator closer and taps out a new number, turning the keypad toward me so I can have a look. Now he sounds even more satisfied as he says, “160.”
“Oh, I’m afraid it’s still too high,” I try to look a little bothered at this point.
“OK, ok, my friend, you tell me what price you want to give.”
“Well, I don’t want to insult you.”
“No problem, just give me a price.”
“Ok, how about 40 Egyptian pounds?”
“Oh no, you break my heart! I cannot accept this price. This is pure Egyptian silver!” Then he pauses. “OK, ok, just have a seat. Maybe we can do something better,” and then we spend another five minutes negotiating the price, smiling and I attempt to leave at which point the vendor chases me into the street and offers a better price. Finally I settle on 95 pounds and walk away with a beautiful and probably somewhat over-priced pair of earrings.
Not all negotiations result in a sale. Sometimes you don’t like the thing you’re looking at enough, sometimes you don’t like the vendor. I’ve been asked for kisses on the cheek twice now, and I remind the vendors that this is “haram” which means “prohibited” in Arabic. I suppose Western women are inclined to oblige some of the men here from time to time which then encourages men to ask for such things. I don’t find it threatening; I just know that I am not considered in the same league of women who are native to Egypt and wish I could be more respected. Again, I remind myself that it is my western predecessors along with women in the media who have helped the men here have these ideas about us. I can see why women here might want to wear the veil.
When I’m not interested in buying anything, I’m able to think more about what I can see. Every ten or twenty stalls, there is a huge stall of spices sold in large cylindrical containers. You can smell the cumin, coriander, hot pepper, paprika, dried mint, and others. I asked a woman who worked at one stand what each spice was used for. Each spice has unique properties. Hibiscus flowers are made into a cool water drink which are good for the stomach. Other spices are good for the throat, others for headaches, and still others for digestion. There are several flowers which I cannot identify that are used for making tea. The ground cinnamon here is as satisfying as passing your hand through a sea of diamonds.
There are plenty of daily consumption goods here as well. Some storefronts have home repair goods, many of them appearing to be recycled nuts and bolts and tools. Other storefronts are full of brightly colored plastic products and thin metal cooking pots and utensils. I understand that many of the goods are now imported from China, something familiar to most countries these days. Other storefronts have racks and racks of brightly colored scarves which women will use for a veil or headwrap. The colors and patterns range from demure ivories to woven rainbows of color. For tourists, there are large, free-standing hooka pipes (these are used for smoking tobacco only—something many members of my group have begun to enjoy in the local cafes). You’ll also find traditional Egyptian galabiyas for sale (long, thin material cloak garments—plain and light colored for men, often highly elaborate with beadwork for women). There are also lots of western style clothes for sale for both genders as well.
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August 6th, 2007 at 2:27 am
I am still wondering if the coordinators had you visit the Khan Khalili market in Cairo as it is an amazing, anthropological, social, cultural maze of vendors that takes you into the core of humanity.