Thursday, November 1, 2012

Cairo, Egypt

<p><br>
Tourism, a staple industry of Egypt, has been seriously handicapped in this post-revolution country. I write this from Tahrir square while waiting for the National Museum to open. Even now, I feel as though I must always be on gaurd, even more so than other large, foreign cities. There is little commotion in this enormous round-about and no indication of what it was during the citizen's military protest after Mubarak was forced to step down. The people are starving and a tourist looks like an open wallet to any con-artist trying to feed himself for the month. In other countries, such as Istanbul, merchants are happy to sell you something for double over-book. With merchants here, I am reminded of a swarm of mosquitoes, uncaring if they leech their host dry. I say this only half-kidding, of course, perhaps I am still bitter about the events that transpired at Giza and my 200 USD guided camel hustle -er *ride. The day previous, I had gone with Harm, (cue the irony) a Dutchman I had befriended, touring Dashur and Saqqara with a private taxi from the hostel and Harm acting as historian. Things went well and I only experienced a taste of the hastling master tricksters that lay ahead of me in Giza. I laughed, thwarting one of the more obvious schemes when a man in a cloak had blocked our tomb ascension and exit. He proclaimed that he was the guardian of the tomb, in a broken english, as he hobbled down the rectangular stone-cut staircase. I replied, "identifiaction, sir", he promptly stepped aside. </p>
<p>It was my day at Giza that put a significant dent in my wallet. A man nowhere near close enough to the entrance to the complex caught me off guard as I exited the metro station. He showed me to the place where the buses congregate and asked me in a disinterested, casual tone where I was from. His name was Abraham or Hima for short and we traded stories over tea while waiting for a bus. His English was perfect and he had a kind but not overly-friendly disposition. He explained to me that he was going to study computer science in Sydney and that is why he needed to have good English skills. He fed me some bullshit about where he had traveled, couch surfing and the people he had hosted and I was all too eager to play along with what ever information he thought I would like to hear. The only times where I was even alerted to the the possibility of a scam was when he offered for me to come to a party that would be occuring in 6 days. This is a variation of the classic line, "Come to my sister's wedding!" It is as if the foreign nature of the words were made convincing over a lifetime of practice, honed through failures. He paid for tea, we hoped on a micro bus. I even just happened to come across some cheap customized tourist necklaces at a rock bottom price, all a charade for what was to ensue. We came to a camel. I had been lulled into a false sense of well-being, there were three of them and there are many other relevant excuses that I'd like to add, but long story short. I paid for a 200 USD camel ride,&#160; 1,220 Egyptian pounds. Enough for a family to survive for about a month and a damn good start in rebooting the economy.</p>
<p>I knew I had been screwed but it only hit me as I was on my way back to downtown Cairo, when the magic of seeing a world destination wore off. I talked to Dina, the hostel owner. I also went back that evening with some friends and had no luck on recouping the funds. I went back the day after with a "specialist", a friend of Dina's. Hima had left me his phone number (probably a throw away). I called and shockingly, Hima picked up. I said hello and then handed the phone to the specialist, Esaam. In an angry and foreign tongue, Essam explained that we had his photo and that we would go to the police. After an hour of driving on the Egyptian highway to Giza, it was surrreal we sat in a government owned stable in a remediation reminiscent of group therapy with the culprits I never thought I'd see again. I managed to squeeze 250 pounds out of the camel jockey. What was more disturbing was Abraham's claim to innocence.

After the readjustment, Abraham and I had tea, under the distant supervision of Essam, the specialist. The unnerving part was Hima's continued claim of innocence right under Essam's nose. It would have been all too easy to fall back into the trap, especially considering that Essam spoke only the smallest amount of English and Hima began hitting all the right buttons. He offered to bury the hatchet by having me spend the night at his family's apartment which he had pointed out early. I stuck to my guns but damn if the guy wasn't compelling, at one point I even found myself in apology. I feigned friendly smile as the defendants claims became more outlandish, as if the faux friendship that started less than 24 hours ago meant something to him. We smiled laughed, sipped tea, smoked shisha and as I was about to leave with Essam, he made me promise that I would come back that evening to his rooftop to watch the pyramids. I declined, he protested leveraging the value of my carefully cultivated re-emerging trust in him. Finally, I complied. "I will be back and I will call you tonight " I lied.

Afterwards, Dina sat with me in the hostel for half an hour showing me how Hima had used small tricks to gain trust and how it appeared that I had only been accidental that I had been taken advantage, as I recounted the entire story to her. The extortion operated thus: the target would continue contacting this supposedly well-meaning individual while their own personal luck continued to slide down hill, at the behest of this supposed friend's confederates. Dina explained that the misdeeds increased in severity with repetition, as there was only a short window of action before people were able to trace an obvious pattern of behavior.The real evidence came when she explained Egyptian culture: men who are best friends go ten to twenty years without ever stepping foot in eachother's family house. This was just another gambit. The most unsettling thing was how effective it was, it was as if my own mind was turned against me. I don't consider my self a hustler or a fool, I was warned about similar plots before ever stepping foot in Egypt. Your basis for what is right and acceptable naturally comes from the group think feedback which is normally constituant of reliable people around you. Traveling by yourself will teach you to exercise judgement with verifiable facts autonomously, especially when those around you are less than reliable. Dina explained that while I did not get back a great sum of money, this was the best possible outcome and to never contact this man again. She told me horror stories of people being beaten, robbed, left in the desert or worse. I sat there mouth agape, replaying the encounter in my mind reinterpreting every action for the con that it was. Abraham's parting words replayed in my head, sending a chill up my spine, "This time bring all your stuff and I'll drop you off at the train station tomorrow."

<p>Things will get better and tourists will return; I can't help but wonder if this process is exacerbated due to their "eat now, starve later" mentality towards preying on unwitting tourists. Moral of the story: By all means go to Egypt but watch out! It seems as though the the desert heat, unbelievable tourist attractions, and the novelty of foriegn culture create the perfect recipe for exploitation; Whether you are naive or an experienced traveler, a hustler or a target, it is those who are open minded to new possibilities who will be most susceptible. Of course, you can always heed childhood advice, "don't talk to strangers", at the expense of your cultural immersion, being among the Egyptians and integrating only when necessary to get something you need or somewhere you want to go.</p>






























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