Stu's visit to Egypt.
8/30/01
Egyptians dicker over everything. Amazingly they are not sleazy about
it.
It is simply their way of doing business. It is not offensive although
sometimes loud. It is usually done respectfully and both parties
understand
that it is simply the way transactions are handled.
Here's how a westerner living in Cairo might buy an ironing board.
First you
ask several other westerners where they bought theirs and how much they
paid.
It is likely that four of them will say "Alpha Market for about
120 LE." Alp
ha Mart is the large, flashy department store in town. It sells
western
brand appliances, furniture, household items, sporting goods, and groceries.
The first thing you do is divide that number by 4. That's about
the exchange
rate. 1 U.S. dollar equals 4.2 Egyptian Pounds (LE). (It may
soon rise to 5
LE. J) When you realize that's about 30 US you immediately try
to remember
what you would pay at Wal-Mart.
Then a fifth person says, "Oh, that's too much. I paid 40
LE down on Road
Nine." Road Nine is Cairo's answer to Ridge road.
Instead of a six lane
divided highway it is a one and a half lane ribbon of worn, pitted black
top.
Instead of shopping malls with acres of parking lots it has a row of
dilapidated buildings on each side that extend right to the place where a
curb might belong if they were so inclined to install one. This means you
must walk in the street and dodge between parked cars and an occasional
donkey cart. It would actually be pleasant except two way traffic is
still
squeezing up and down the road.
The stores on road Nine barely qualify as structures. The local
government
stimulates the free market economy by enforcing virtually no building codes.
Thus, any motivated entrepreneur can open a store if they happen to own a
reasonably sturdy cardboard box. These tiny store-fronts are crammed
side by
side for about a mile and you can get anything from them. New or used.
Name
brand or rough shod. Legal or black market. There is even a McDonald's
on
Road Nine.
30 dollars sounds like more than Wal-mart would charge so you decide to walk
down to Road Nine and check it out. You browse each shop and are
thrilled to
practice your new Arabic phrase, "La, shukran." (No, thank you)
Once in a
while you make the mistake of showing interest in a book or a trinket or a
two prong plug adapter for your radio and a shopkeeper descends on you with,
"You like? Twundee pownz! Ah, sound goood, no?"
You actually consider yourself lucky because he speaks some English, but you
reflect that a one hour cab ride costs 20 LE, a case of bottled water (18
Liters) costs 14 LE, six loaves of flat bread is 1.5 LE and a ride on the
Metro is 0.5 LE (50 piastres) You realize 20 LE is too much for a
tattered,
paperback copy of The Client even if it is in English. So you decide
to give
this whole dickering thing a try and hold up the book in one hand and two
fingers from your other and you say, "Two pounds."
He shakes his head excitedly and points at the pile of books on the table.
He picks one up and places it into your free hand and proudly announces,
"Two! Fordee pownz pleeze."
The situation grows more frustrating and you finally leave empty handed.
You haven't seen a single ironing board, you're hot, your feet
hurt and you misplaced your fourth water bottle that day. You decide to comfort yourself
with
a McFalafel sandwich and a Coke. Then you catch a cab to Alpha Mart
and buy
an ironing board for 120 LE. Of course, you have to arrange for
delivery
since you can't fit it in a cab and you're not going to walk
the thirty
minutes with an ironing board over your head. The cashier insists it
will be
at your apartment within the hour so you rush home in a cab instead of
shopping more. Four hours later a small, sweaty man drops your ironing
board
off and you tip him 3 LE.
Is Wal-Mart convenient? No doubt. Do I miss it? No way.
I am accustomed
to avoiding interaction when shopping. But here interaction is life.
You
interact with everyone. A second year teacher walked me around the
neighborhood and introduced me by name to a dozen different grocers and
shopkeepers. The Egyptian knew the teacher's name, shook his
hand, kissed
his wife on each cheek and asked about a friend or a relative. Now
every
time I walk into a store I am greeted with a big smile and a hand shake.
Egyptians may dicker over price, but they are generous with their hearts.