Salesmen

Everybody here’s a salesman. It’s really quite remarkable to see. When it comes to selling, there are two tactics that seem most prevalent. First, there is the tactical and sudden amnesia on behalf of Egyptian salesmen when it comes to speaking English. As I walked down the street the other day, a man came up to me and asked in good in English if I wanted to buy some French perfume. Even though I’ve only been here three days, I think that I’ve become fairly proficient in turning away salesmen because they stand at every turn. But this guy was different. He found a way to keep bugging me for three blocks. When he asked if I wanted perfume, I said “No thanks, not today.” He immediately replied, “No English. No English.” Hardly batting an eyelash, I switched to Arabic, “No, I don’t want it.” To this he replied, “I no understand.” This took place over the course of a block, this interaction interspersed with his sales pitches. Then I cut to the chase, saying no in alternating English and Arabic: “no, le, no, le” etc. Somehow, he seemed not to understand this. I could barely suppress a smile as he continued to insist that he didn’t understand. Finally, he opened the perfume’s package, tearing the plastic wrapping and saying to me, “Now you give me 14 pounds. Give me 14 pounds.” At this point I began to get a little nervous because he’d opened the package and I was afraid he’d insist more emphatically that I buy. And so I stopped in my tracks, faced him, and said “NO!”, all the while the waving my arms emphatically over my head. With that, he sulked off, dejected. Clearly, when all else fails, one must resort to the ever-reliable realm of international hand signals. I have had other experiences with salesmen claiming not to speak English, so I know that this is a trend, but I’ll save those for another day.
The other tactic of being a salesman in the city of Cairo, as it is anywhere, is persistence. Let me give you two examples. Yesterday, as I walked down the street, I saw a family sitting on the corner. As passed, I saw the mother shove her youngest daughter to me. I kept walking, but she ran along beside me, waving a pack of tissues at me, telling me that she was selling them for one pound per pack. At this point, I’ve learned to cut to the chase, mixing forceful no’s with just ignoring her. But still she persisted. First she tried shoving the tissues into my hand and under my arm, the theory being that if I actually possessed the tissues they would be harder for me to turn down. When that failed, she took the pack of tissues and pushed them up against my face. She held them there for a few seconds before I, yes you guessed it, turned to her and waved my arms wildly over my head. With that, she ran away.
One more example. Today I went apartment hunting. The first apartment I saw was run by a landlady named Sr. Sohayr. She was an adamant salesman, going over the details again and again, as I sat patiently. After the third time she went over the fact that the washing machine was a new one, I told her what she wanted to hear: that I was interested in the apartment and would call her later about it. This was a lie; the apartment was a nice one, but it met none of my specifications. But I told her I liked it and spared myself a fourth go at the washing machine. I then made the fatal error. Dr. Sohayr asked for my cell phone number, and I gave it to her. Over the next four hours I went on to receive FIVE calls from Dr. Sohayr. She called to give me more details on the apartment. Most of the information was repetitive, but presented as if it were new. She even offered up her son as a friend to me: “If you live in my apartment, my son will be here and he will become a friend to you.” Every time she called, she told me that there were various other offers from other people but that she was saving the apartment just for me. The number of other people who made offers on the apartment fluctuated depending on the call.
On another subject, I want to point out an interesting merger of cultures I experienced last night. I went to watch the sunset on the roof of my hotel last night. It’s truly an amazing sight because the Egyptian sun takes on the form lets you look at it much earlier than the American sun does. I was able to stare at that big gold orb for the last forty five minutes it hung in the sky.

As I sat there, high above the city, watching the sun swing low, the music on the speakers was of a lonely Arab chant. I think this was a prayer chant but I’m not totally sure. I began to settle back in my chair, reflecting on just how truly Egyptian this setting was, and then the irony all hit me. As I watched this amazing scene, I realized the humor in the fact that I was drinking a Heineken while sitting on top of a Hilton hotel. Somehow this clash didn’t particularly bother me. For once, for one moment, these two cultures existed in perfect harmony.

Street Crossing 101

Quick note: I am posting frequently, so look below this post for picutres of the Nile and my first post from the city.


Let me tell you about the babies we almost killed today. To do that, I need to talk about crossing streets in this city. The topic probably deserves a blog unto itself, but I'll limit it to one post. Stop lights in Cairo are largely symbolic. Symbolic of the pretend sense of order that the city vainly tries to put forward. There is no yellow on these stoplights, simply red and green. And they flash red, green, red, green, all day............. but nobody seems to notice. The cars fly at a furious pace, weaving and lurching. Honking for no apparent reason. I want to acknowledge that everybody who has ever visited a foreign country asserts that the driving there was insanity. I'd like to put forward, however, the proposition that Cairo may well take the cake as far as drivers go because you have to consider the drivers in addition to the fact that pedestrians are ruthless and that the stop lights are mere gestures. My point is that it goes beyond the drivers to the conditions on the road. I've never quite seen anything like it.
Let me give you an example, before I get back to the babies. The Nile Hilton, where I'm staying, is surrounded on all sides by major multi-lane roads. To go anywhere in the city from the hotel involves crossing a street. In front of the hotel is an eight lane road that runs along the river Nile. On this road, called Corniche al-Nil, cars go sixty in bumper to bumper traffic. Yesterday morning, I needed to cross the Nile en route to my language school. To get to the bridge, I had to first cross the 8 laner. I stood on the curb and looked in both directions as far as the eye can see. No intersections anywhere. But all around me were Egyptians on foot, crossing. If you haven't seen it, it's hard to describe the sight on crossing so much traffic. It's fairly awe inspiring. It's almost like a dance between pedestrians and drivers. Where there is seemingly no room on the road for cars to swerve or brake, they manage to find a way (with lots of horn).
Now let me address those who think that this post is over doing it a little and that to call street crossing a dance is just trying to sound stupidly poetic. While I prepared to travel to Cairo, many people told me about the street crossings. It was much trumpeted in my mind, and so I eagerly, and nervously, anticipated it. But then I got here, and it was every bit as people had said. It's sort of a controlled insanity.
And so I made my crossing on that eight lane road. Becuase there are no breaks in the traffic, I put my head down and walked. The first car came to a screeching halt, honking hysterically. In the next lane, the car swerved right and all the cars next to it got the picture and all swerved right in tandem. The car in the next lane made no bones about it. He wasn't stopping. And so I gave a little hop step and narrowly averted disaster. You get the picture. The point is, I made it accross just fine. You just can't have any fear.
Now to the babies. This morning, I got in a cab to head to the other side of town. As we hauled around a turn onto the entrance ramp of one of the Nile's bridges, I saw ahead of us were about a dozen women, covered from head to toe in long black robes, as many of the women here are. Each of them was holding a small child. I'm not sure whether they were all going to a function with their children or just taking them out for a walk, but there they were. We were going about 60 and right at them. We'd almost hit single people before, but never had I been confronted by such a mass right in front of me. And just as we got to within feet of them, a path opened between them, just the width of the car. With a casual nature that I have never seen with American mothers, these women made room with ease as we made our way through. I saw on both sides that our side view mirrors caught the robes of a couple of these women, but nobody seemed to mind. And just as quickly as the sea had parted in front of us, it closed up again around our exhaust.
Even the smallest things in this city are wildly fascinating to me.
A Preview: That cab ride took me across town to a real estate agent. Today is apartment searching day. I am currently sitting in an internet cafe on the outskirts of town. We saw one apartment this morning and we will look at more this afternoon. A full report to follow tonight.

The Mighty Nile!

Picture taken from the East bank of the Nile, looking south west. I took it while strolling the banks yesterday.

And so it begins......

It’s about three hours before I’d ever go to bed in the States, but jet lag has made sure that I’m wide awake at 6am Cairo time! I arrived at 5pm yesterday, and already I can add two people to what I’m sure will become a fascinating cast of characters.
First, let me tell you about my cab driver, Ramadan. Ramadan introduced himself to me at the airport saying with a grin, “Hello! I am Ramadan. That means holiday!” He whisked me from the crush of the airport and away towards downtown.
In the cab, Ramadan said to me, “So, you from Europe?” When I told him that I was actually American, he went silent. When I tried to ask him a question about some building we were passing, he quipped, “I no speak English.” This was somewhat frustrating, and we sat in silence for a while.
It soon occurred to me what I needed to do. I took a deep breath and began talking in my broken traditional Arabic, telling him that I was happy to be here and that I was going to be studying in Cairo for the next six months. When I was done, still more silence. My attempt to ingratiate myself had failed.
But then, about two minutes later, Ramadan offered me a cigarette. Ah, the ultimate form of acceptance! I was almost tempted to smoke it just to get in good with him, but I declined politely. Ramadan then, in English, began to set up all the trips that he and I would take together around Egypt in the next week. “So tomorrow, I drive you to the pyramids. I show you the pyramids! Later, I take you to museums. I take you around all week. Very reasonable price!” When I told him that I wasn’t sure about his schedule but that I’d like to ride with him, he gave me three different phone numbers to reach him.
Further, he called his friend and had me talk to his friend who assured me that he could find me apartments anywhere in the city. After that discussion, Ramadan tried to persuade me to go look for apartments right then. I had to insist that my hotel was waiting for me to check in.
I have photos of my cab ride in, but this connection is not letting me post them. I will do it as soon as I can.
The other person that I need to tell you about is a man named Muhammed. After a quick nap at the hotel, I set out looking for dinner. Drawing hundreds of odd, but not hostile stares as I wandered around the overwhelmingly Arab neighborhood outside my hotel, I looked like a fish out of water. Suddenly a well dressed man with minimal English approached me and asked, “You lost?” I told him that I was looking for dinner. He told me to follow him, that he was meeting friends in half an hour, but that he’d like to show me where to find dinner. I was too tired to want to talk to anyone, but I agreed, mostly following my stomach.
We walked and walked and walked. And then we left the beaten path. I began to get a little nervous because Muhammed had told me that there was a square just down the road with restaurants. That proved false, but we eventually arrived to the restaurant, mere moments before I would have turned around.
To call it a restaurant may be overstating the point. It was, in fact, a few tables in an open stall. We were the only diners there. The whole way over to the restaurant, Muhammed had been telling me that he was going to have me eat chicken kebabs. He kept telling me that the chicken kebabs we delicious and that I would love them. When we arrived at the restaurant, Muhammed ordered in Arabic (no menus) and the food arrived a few minutes later: chicken, tahini sauce, pita, and salad. When I told him how delicious I found the chicken, he said to me, “What chicken?! Are you crazy. We no eat chicken in Egypt. Too much disease.” In my disbelief, I asked him what the meat was. “Buffalo!” he exclaimed. Now, as far as I know, buffalo is not an animal that lives outside of the western United States. Bottom line is that I didn’t push my luck any further. I guess I will never know what it was I ate.
We were joined at dinner by half a dozen stray cats, two of which took the other two empty seats at the table. The four of us discussed politics, culture, and religion for the next half an hour, though the cats contributed little to the conversation. After a while, Muhammed excused himself because he had to go meet friends, and I finished my mystery-meat dinner, making sparse and un-reciprocated conversation with the cats before heading back to the hotel and going to sleep.

Tomorrow

This post must be brief because getting ready to go on a six month trip is, as I'm figuring out, quite time consuming! After a farewell dinner tonight with my parents and Thorn, I will have to do a marathon session to get ready. My flight leaves tomorrow at 5:20pm, en-route to Zurich. In Zurich I change planes and will be on the ground in Cairo by 2:30pm Tuesday. I'm staying at a hotel in the middle of the city and will have only several days to find an apartment for myself. I've decided to spend my first full day (Wednesday) in the city just walking around and soaking it all in. I will look at neighborhoods that I'm interested in living in. I am meeting with several real estate agents on Thursday, and I hope to move into my new pad a few days later. I'm only scratching the surface here describing to you of all the planning I've done for my first few days there. I think that's the excitement kicking in. As of now, I have pretty much every moment of my first 72 hours covered. But I know the beauty of such a trip is that I have had the pleasure of planning out each moment, but all the plans will likely dissolve into the chaos that 11 million Cairoans have to offer from the moment I set foot on the ground. As I write, the dog sleeps at my feet, CNN is flashing the day's news, and my room is fairly clean. This is a scene out of any normal day at home for me. In 38 hours, I will take my first steps on the continent of Africa, and the dog, CNN, and my bedroom will seem as foreign to me as the banks of the Nile do now.
Next post: Wednesday from Cairo!

Welcome!

This is a welcome and a test-post all in one. I've decided to branch out from the Middlebury blogs and to create one of my own on google. Let's see if it can survive without being overrun by outside posters.
T-Minus fifteen days until departure for Cairo and there's a lot to do. I have a list that goes just about down to the ground. I just got back from my tour of the south, visiting Miami, Boca Grande, Atlanta, and Nashville (see photo of tarpon in Boca) and it's time to get some sleep before a busy day tomorrow. Expect frequent posts on my blog once I get to Cairo, but be patient with me over the next two weeks while I get all my business in order. You can expect one more post before I leave to the Middle East. That post will be the detailed one. There I will detail the specifics of my upcoming trip and outline the purposes of my blog which I am determined to update frequently and to use for a range of purposes from light to serious.
That's all for now. I promise this will be the only garbage post I ever do... just need to figure out how to work this program!
Theo