Tourist

Day 23 June 13 – Tourist

Most of the places I’ve been over the last two weeks were very un-touristy. But back in Cairo it is a whole different story. Shop keepers yell at you to get your attention, little kids ask your name, where you’re from, then tell you to give them money. The most annoying is the taxi drivers, as I’m walking along they slow down beside me and lay on their horn until I look at them. The one that really pushed me over the edge was a guy who comes up stops right in front of me so I have to stop. Then reaches down grabs my hand, shakes it, and doesn’t let go. Now I’m already not liking this person and when after I try to pull my hand away, twice he continues to hold my hand tighter. So, angrily, I shove him away and tell him to do something very profane to himself.
Well after that episode I walked around the markets for a few hours seeing the people and what they are selling. I was surprised to see that the majority of street vendors sell car stuff. Like aftermarket horns, probably because they overuse the ones they have. I couldn’t believe the amount of car stuff they were selling, anyone need new windshield wipers or sparkplugs?
Well after about four hours of wandering around, and failing to find the movie theater I was looking for, I headed home.

My favorite tourist moment was when some kid about 12 years old starts walking with me. He starts chit-chatting, he was too friendly; my spider/tourist sense was tingling. As I expected he says, oh look here is my family bazaar please my friend come in, come in. Well I was already shopping so why not. I go in to find tourist stuff, little statues, little pyramids, papyrus pictures. Well let me describe the store owner, anything I looked at got a full description, I was the center of his world. So after about 5 minutes of him telling me how good of a deal I was getting I said, ”No thanks, have a nice day.” He looked utterly crestfallen; he looked like Cesar would have as he muttered “Et Tu Brutus?” As I left I heard him quietly, sadly ask, “what happened my friend?” I thought that was a classic tourist moment.


Some Egyptians have aftermarket hors that mimic police sirens, that would get you thrown in prison so fast back home.

I think every Egyptian merchant has learned how to say “hello my friend. British? American? Australian? Come see my Bazar?”

Sorry no pictures today

Going to the Pyramids tomorrow, Boom Shakalaka!