Imagine walking into a coffeeshop in any American city as a German tourist, backpack still on, Let's Go USA guidebook in hand. You order a black coffee and the barista says, "Ten dollars please."
"Ten dollars?!" you say. That seems a little steep.
"Ten dollars," he repeats with conviction and turns to his colleagues for support. The other employee chimes in, "Coffee? Yeah, it's ten dollars," as if citing a well known fact.
That's out of your budget so you wave "no thanks" and make your way for the door.
"OK... seven dollars," the barista barks just as you walk out.
Now you are an American traveling in Australia. You jump on the bus to get across town.
"Five dollars," says the driver.
"Five? No... one or two, right?" you counter, sure its a misunderstanding.
"Its five dollars to ride the bus!" he huffs with such well rehearsed indignation you'd swear you've offended him.
Such is the experience of a traveler in Cairo, Luxor, Aswan, or any piece of Egypt that's been kissed, or in some cases bear hugged, by tourism. From the minute you step out of your hotel door every bottle of water, bus ride, candy bar, haircut, cup of tea, or museum fee could turn into a heated negotiation. Some will let you walk out of their empty restaurant before accepting the same amount of money a local would pay.
Of course suckers do abound. Get to the ancient temples at 6am, enjoy a serene walk around the majestic past with only the rising sun and waking birds for company.. and then, as you're leaving, slow your walk and watch them arrive. They come just as the barbarian armies which tore down these great civilizations at their delicate ends. The warships and cavalry are now oversized blue and yellow buses. The swords and axes now cameras. They come from castles they've constructed, fit with provisions so they need not venture outside the high walls. Fort Hilton. Citadel Sheraton. They wear the garb of their tribe: Hawaiian shirts, daisy duke shorts, spaghetti strap tops. Continental breakfasts still digesting they march straight through the temple in a direct line from one touted highlight to the next, checking them off. There is no time to wander and reflect. Their commander, General Tourguide has 7 more temples for them to conquer before the sun sets.
If they haven't noticed no Egyptian wears shorts in public, they undoubtedly also haven't noticed that the ferry to cross the Nile cost 20 cents, not 10 dollars. A bottle of water 40 cents, not 2 dollars.
In the wake of a con I had to rectify with the help of the police, several Egyptians, embarrassed to hear the story, pointed out that there are bad people and good people everywhere. Absolutely true. Get away from the tourist trail and you'll find mostly warm, welcoming people. They'll call out greeting from cafes, help you out with directions on the bus, lend you their phones and even money if you're in a spot. They want to know where you are from and what you've seen. They universally say, "Welcome to Egypt.. welcome," with the tone of a proud host ushering a new friend into his house.
Soon I was reminded that a raw deal is not a purely Egyptian specialty. The carriage rider who switched my money around and claimed, "I am a Muslim. I don't lie," temporarily had me for a 20 dollar loss. The Christian cab driver who told me three times "I love Jesus," tried to double my fare for a 4 dollar loss. A casting agency in Los Angeles, for whom I cut my trip short, tried to take me for a 350$ loss by refusing to refund what I spend to adjust my plane ticket.
The Egyptian police helped me get my 20 back. Threat of a law suit helped me get the 350. As my old man says, "The right incentive always motivates people to honesty."
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| Aswan PD hard at work on my case |
