Days 70 & 71: boy in a man’s world

Ermyias comes on the minibus to the airport and as I enter the terminal he hands me a gift. It is cross pendant and for the second time in Ethiopia I am really touched.

I land in Addis late morning, grab a quick goodbye Ethiopian coffee with Dawit and wile away the afternoon in the Airport reading my book, eating and snoozing on the excellent recliners. I have no wifi or phone signal so call the ever reliable Pam Richards into service via text to let the hotel know I will be late.

My flight leaves around 10.30pm and I walk into the warm Cairo air around 2am (3am Ethiopian time) on Sunday. I immediately meet Mohammed, a friendly local taxi driver. Our initial deal is $25 to take me to my hotel (25kms or so away) but by the end of the journey we’ve agreed he’ll pick me up at 7.30am to take me to the pyramids, then to the Egyptian Museum, back to my hotel and finally collect me at 4.00am the following day to take me back to the airport. He’s a gentle man, not in my face and I instinctively like him.

Mohammed picks me up on time and introduces me to his friend Abrahim in Giza. I am adamant I want to walk round the pyramids but Abrahim’s having none of it. You can’t walk, it is a 12km loop and you are walking in deep sand. As it is due to be 38 degrees C I relent; the reality of course is its closer to 2-3kms at most when I get there.

He wants $120 for a horse and cart, camel or horse ride. “This is the only money you will have to pay; I pay all the entry fees, everything; it is the VIP package”. I haggle to $80 for a camel which I am sure is way over the odds. We take tea and 5 minutes later the camel arrives. It is shorter than I expected and missing its hump. You or I would call it a horse!

I am not actually unhappy about this so don’t complain. I am handed over to Ahmed who is riding another horse and guiding mine. “This is Ahmed. He pays everything, you only have to pay him as you guide”. Hang on a minute…..

I started this journey with 50bhp but ended with just 1

Next we meet a camel and rider. “Take my picture”. “No thanks, I have no spare cash”. “I don’t want any money, just take picture”. Two minutes later, “give me $30”. I eventually compromise on $5 after a stand off.

After two hours we are all done and it’s Ahmed’s turn. You can give me $70. I had $30 in mind and just hand it to him. He goes for the offended sulky approach before proposing $50. I stand firm, but eventually relent and give him $40.

“You happy, Andrew?”. “Not really Ahmed, but that’s the nature of a deal; we both need to feel a little unhappy don’t we for it to be fair”. There is silence for a moment; “I want you to be happy”.

It s not a big deal for me; I have dollars in my pocket, I fly back tomorrow and the few that are left will sit in our drawer for years if I take them home. “Ok Ahmed, I am happy”. We shake hands.

“Our deal is between you, me and Allah, Andy. You promise me?”. I laugh out loud. “Ahmed, I hear you. What you are telling me is that I have paid you way too much and you don’t want me to tell Abrahim because he will want a cut. Don’t worry Ahmed, I paid him way over the odds too. He keeps his deal, you keep yours. I will just say that our deal is between us”.

Ahmed beams. “I pray for you Mr Andy that you and your wife will live for 150 years, inshallah”. Blimey, I really have overpaid!

Ahmed delivers me for a final free tea. Of course the tea is not the point. While I drink it Mrs Abrahim does her best to sell me some perfumes but this is one I win (but if you are interested there is a purple one called something of the night; 4 drops on your wife’s clothes will turn her into an animal after midnight apparently).

Next it is off to the Egyptian museum. Mohammed drops me at the gate and agrees to be back within 5 minutes of my text when I am done. As I enter the man by the gate explains the museum is closed for 30 minutes for prayer but there is a market over the road. I am suspicious but don’t want to accuse him of being a bare-faced liar so cross the road to the market with him. Of course the ‘market’ is his or his friend’s shop.

I walk out, beat him back to the gate and surprise surprise the museum is open. English politeness and Egyptian dishonesty are not natural bedfellows and at the moment I’m getting taken apart.

Things improve from here. I wander round the museum which is packed with Egyptian antiquities. I feel like a 5 year old reading a university physics text book; rather than try and make sense of it I just look at the exhibits, read a few guiding notes and stop at what catches my eye. It is still a fun way to spend 90 minutes or so.

Next up I’ve asked Mohammed to take me for kushari street food. Beatriz had recommended it and Mohammed agrees that if I want to ‘go Egyptian’ I need to eat kushari and falafel. I want to pay but Mohammed is having none of it; “you are my guest, I pay”. Bless you Mohammed, I could have lost hope here! We even get a team photo.

Doing our bit for Islamic/Christian relations

Kushari is delicious; pasta, rice, chick peas and crispy onion served in a tomato, chilli and lime sauce. It is followed up by a cold rice pudding type desert which is also great and takes me back to childhood Sunday lunchtimes.

Sightseeing done, Mohammed drops me back to the hotel and agrees to pick me up at 4am tomorrow for a falafel breakfast before my flight. I pop down the road in the scorching afternoon sun to buy a new t-shirt. I am wearing the best that I currently have. It is 15 years old, now has holes under both arms and was last hand washed by me two days ago using soap from the hotel bathroom; it’s not in perfect shape for a family reunion tomorrow.