Egyptian B.S.

October 28, 2008

My driver’s name is Mahmoud and he is a friend of Amanda. He owns his own taxi but serves as Amanda’s personal driver when she needs it. (She’s kind of a snobby Britt like that. Mahmoud told me she doesn’t like to walk anywhere!) He is one of her contacts that I have been able to take advantage of here in Cairo. His little brother, Islam, (19 years old), also drives the cab and has hung out with us a few times. They are good guys and have taken a real shine to me. But really, who could blame them?

I arranged to have Mahmoud pick me up at 11am so we could go out to the pyramids. I planned to use him all day as not only my driver but my interpreter and guide as well. He is very happy to get an all day job I think because from what I can tell the taxi services are a dime a dozen and pay peanuts. I offered him 200 pounds for the day and he gladly accepted. (That’s $37 US…) On our way to Giza, where the pyramids are, he told me he’d never been to see them. He’s 28 years old and is a native of Cairo…and he’s never been to see the pyramids. I told him I wanted him to escort me in and around the park and I think he got as excited as I was. I asked him why he’d never been to see such a great national treasure and he said he just never made the time because he has been working since he was 14. I just really believe that the locals don’t think of the pyramids the same way we westerners do. I imagine the Chinese don’t see the Great Wall the same way either, likewise the French and the Eiffel Tower, Texan’s and The Alamo, etc. You get the picture

We were stopped in traffic about a mile away from the pyramids, (I could see them off in the distance), when a man came up to the car and started talking mish-mash to Mahmoud. My driver said something abruptly to him and we started to drive off. I assumed the man was trying to either get into my cab or sell something. But I didn’t expect him to jump on the trunk of the car and ride with us for about 500 yards down the road…which is just what he did. So we are rolling down the road in thick traffic at about 40 mph and I turn to look at this knucklehead riding on our trunk and I ask Mahmoud what was going on. He tells me that the guy wants to sell me a donkey or camel ride or some crap like that. He said he told the man no but obviously he is one hell of a salesman because he’s kicking back on the trunk knowing full well we have to stop eventually and “No” is just not in his vocabulary. So I told Mahmoud to pull over and as soon as we did the guy jumps off the trunk, comes over to my window and starts selling me aluminum siding, bibles, Tupperware, encyclopedias, the word according to Joseph Smith, swamp land in Florida, and God only knows what else. He gave salesmanship a whole new name! At first I was pissed off, and I speak enough Arabic to look the guy in the eye and say “No…Piss off”, but he would not back down. When I finally started to laugh he said to me with a big crooked, dirty toothed grin, “Hi-Ho Silvers, I love America!” I swear to God…he said “Hi-Ho Silvers!” I can appreciate a good sales spiel as much as anyone…so I finally let him tell me what he was selling. Turns out he was offering a horse-drawn carriage ride through the pyramids for the low-low price of 40 pounds for a 1 hour tour. That’s 40 pounds each for me and Mahmoud. 80 pounds=$14! Hell yeah I say…come in off the trunk brother, get in the back seat and lead us to it! So this guy, his name turns out to be Omar, takes us to where his little carriage is waiting. We turn right, cut across traffic back to the left, zoom down a few back alleys, and I start to pat my pockets to make sure I brought my knife. But, it turns out Omar was legit and we made it safely to where my carriage to the pyramids awaited.

Poor Mahmoud started getting really uncomfortable because the thought of paying 40 pounds for a carriage ride through the pyramids he had yet to ever see up close was just unfathomable. So I had to assure him that it was no problem and that I was very happy to have him along as not just my guide but as my friend. There is a definite clash of the classes here in Cairo. The have and have-nots have been going toe-to-toe for thousands of years I think. Mahmoud and Omar are certainly a part of the “have not” class so I had to find a delicate way of making my new friend feel comfortable with me spending money on him, (even if just peanuts), without offending his deep rooted Muslim sensibilities. Since “delicate” isn’t really something I know much about this was turning out to be as much work as him driving me around in his cab. I should be charging him!

So the Pyramids…what can I say? They were fantastic! They were more breathtakingly huge than I ever could have imagined. Later after I got home I examined the pictures I took and in some of them the giant rock mountains don’t look so big. But then in the ones where there are people or cars in the foreground they appear as they should in all their omnipresent glory. The sheer size of the project…millions of stones stacked in perfect symmetrical order, was a humbling site. This gaudy American in all his grandeur and western panache felt belittled and meaningless in the presence of what rightfully is described as one of the true wonders of the world. They are an engineering marvel like none that I shall ever see again.

After the tour of the park was done our carriage driver headed towards some Papyrus Museum that he said we “just had to see.” It dawned on me then why the ride was so cheap…because I was going to be taken to some shop and hounded to buy a local trinket from Omar’s brother or uncle. The kid driving the carriage, (not Omar), wasn’t as good a salesman as Omar because all I had to say was “La” and the kid turned the cart around and headed back to where our car was parked. The kid, (I forgot his name), was actually a good tour guide. He knew all the history of the park, where to stop for good photo ops, and knew how to make his way through the buses and camels that crowded the street that winds its way through the pyramids. So when we were done Omar was waiting for us. I gave him the 80 pounds for Mahmoud and I and then handed the kid 40 more as a tip. I think I ticked off old Omar because he looked like he expected a tip too. Here’s your tip my friend…don’t waste your bullshit on a bull-shitter next time.

-Jim Franks