Cairo (from Kyle)

Another email update from Kyle sent out on July 1st:

I couldn't resist another update, especially after the insane experiences we had today. Sorry for the typos in the last message (and, more than likely this one as well). The IPhone, while amazing, as about to be proven by this message, is not condusive to typing accurately, especially after long and exhausting days exploring.Last night Nathan crashed early and I tried to stay up so I can get a good handle on my sleep schedule for the remainder of the trip. While trying to remain conscious, I decided to plan our excusions for today as we hadn't decided yet. I wanted to visit the Khan el Khalili bazaar (which is a must see) and the many Turkish, Islamic mosques in the city. I found an IPhone app called City Walking: Cairo and for $5 rocked our worlds today. It showed different walking tours with directions from place to place. However, because we had suspended service on our phones while we are overseas, we could not access the Internet outside of the hotel so these were static maps. We hadto write down what directions we could at the hotel and make due with the maps on the app, which were mostly Arabic. Not an easy task but we actually had no trouble at all! We saw 7 mosques, the Citadel and the bazaar in a 10+ mile walk in 6 hours. We got lost only twice but wereable to find out way out of it.I now consider myself an expert navigator and Egypt travelor.

I can cross 10 lanes of nonstop traffic and not bat an eye at cars speeding by inches away or actually being touched as they go by. I have also gained the ability to traverse endless amounts of refuse without soiling any part of myself (a must in Cairo, when everything, living flowers included, is covered in a dusty grime). The mosques were amazing! Huge fortresses so elaborately carved. We visited the 3rd largest in the world and climbed a tower with a view of all Cairo.

Now for the best (Mom, you may think worst) part of the day. I am aware this was dangerous and probably not the best idea, but what good ones are? We were in the bazaar and in a part with no tourists while we were deciding which way to go when a charmingly adorable, short old man approached us. His English was perfect and he wanted to direct us. Now, in Cairo, any good deed, no matter how small, is always done with the intent of receiving a tip. He assured us he wanted no tip and that he had lived here over 50 yrs and wanted to show us around. He wanted to show us the Old Islamic part of Cairo and was politely insistent. With nervous-excited-scared shitless looks, Nathan and I followed him. Within minutes we were totally lost and dependent upon following him as he took us through crowded back alleys, buildings and staircases all of which had shops and stalls and merchants in every spare nook and cranny.

We were the only non-locals on this private tourthat lasted 1 hr. The man showed us the oldest spice shops in the area, the oldest coffee bean stall and various buildings where his grandfather and father inlaided mother of pearl (his trade). But what was most amazing, Fatih, our guide, knew of every place to stand in these back allies to view minarets from all the mosques, the sultan's harem buildings, old tombs and forgotten temples.These views were spectacular and were impossible to discover unless shown, as all the market activity occupied our thoughts and vision (or was it worry of our impending doom).Fatih knew everyone we met, which I wad hoping was a good sign. The tour was a blur: Fatih moving and speaking with the skill of an expert, stopping and directing us to stand on this step, in that corner, in this shop, look there, pausing long enough for us to take a picture, and then going again through more twists and turns.
The bazaar was a labryinth of passages from which we would never escape on our own.Fatih directed us up an inner staircase of delapidated concrete of which I was sure a trap. We emerged on the roof with amazing views of the city and Citadel of which we had just come from. There were shacks and shelters built on top of this roof, one housing 5 goats which bleated to welcome or warn us, I am not sure. Then quickly, we were off again. This continued over and over. I let Nathan take over conversing with Fatih and taking pictures on his IPhone throughout the tour. In other words, I was half paying attention to what was happening and half preparing for defense and estimating safety and reading Fatih's interactions with others for a hint of betrayl.

During the tour Fatih mentioned that his picture was in a book which he took to mean increased his trustworthiness. He also mentioned offering us tea or coffee, which is the traditional custom of vendors, although it does not imply a sale is mandatory. We started getting into less populated and shoppy areas and ended in a near dead end with a padlocked door. There were no widows or markings to suggest what waited inside.Fatih unpad locked the door and stepped inside, turning on a light. (ed. note: check out pictures of Fatih in the past posts). The light was reflected and refracted from tiny baubles and trinkets, still giving no sense of what lay inside. I "let" Nathan proceed first and when I stepped inside found the 3 of us in a charming hovel, about 5 by 5. I do not use the word hovel deragatorily, it was cute in it's own way. A corner bench occupied one corner, with just enough room for the 3 of us to sit knee to knee. The rest of the room was covered with shelves and his "collections."

Fatih took out an ancient Lonely Planet guide to Egypt and Sudan and sure enough, there was his picture printed before our very eyes. He then showed us the wall behind him and the back of the door which were covered in photos of him w various tourists in our very seats.To be completely honest, at this point my blood went cold and every Silence-of-the-Lambs-esque movie replayed in my head. This sick man got off on takng tourists around taking pictures of the sights to then take their own photos before killing them, having an ironic memento of each kill. Sorry again Mom, just remember I am safe and writing this safely locked in my hotel room.I was constantly conflicted with feelings of fear, then guilt, as the old man was very kind and generous and had indeed given us a priceless tour. But then again, was his age and appearance some sort of guise for a Hostel-esque (horror movie) plot?Fatih then showed us a book filled with thank you'd and notes from his previous victims, er- I mean tourists. He asked us to write a note and then asked if we would write down his address to send him a copy of a picture of us with him. He also asked if we would keep an eye out for the book his photo was published in so that he could have more than one copy. He would send us a great gift if we could find it. He offered us tea or coffee which was outside of our comfort zone (funny that we developed boundaries at this point). We declined several times which clearly hurt his feelings. I knew it was part of the game in a way, but Nathan and I both agree that Fatih was different from the other scammers, or perhaps we are just too gullible to see this sweet old man as anything but that ( if that ain't age-ism, I don't know what is).

Then Fatih showed us his "collection" which included mother-of-pearl inlaid boxes. The jig was up, he wanted us to buy some of his handmade boxes, which of course we were getting at "wholesale" prices. When this happened with others I felt anger and resentment that the previous exchange had had an alterior motive. However, I felt nothing but kindness and some sadness for Fatih. Fatih was good: we were lost with our only hope for escape laying within his knowledge of the alleys, we were in his hovel in a remote alley, yet, I did not feel in immediate danger or pressured to buy anything. My resulting gratitude and the fact he had given us an extraordinary experience inthe bazaar only made me want to buy his wares. Nathan and I both bought two small boxes for 100 Egyptian Pounds (~$17) and gave him some extra as well.Fatih then told us he would take us back to where we started. He had several more stops along the way, some pictures he wanted for himself (if we could send them). One was the tomb of an imam that his father had done the woodwork for, one of a poster of a woman he called egypt's version of "Single Ladies" and a picture of his friend smoking sheesha (who was so confused and no idea what was happening as we stopped, snapped a pic and left in under 10 secs) (ed note: again, see picture from previous post with a very confused man smoking hookah).

As promised Fatih took us back to where we started (pointing out familair stops along the way to comfort us). He wanted us to tell our friends and family of him so he could guide them as well. He asked where we were headed and pointed us in the right direction, shook our hands, and he was gone.After a couple of minutes debriefing on our surreal experience, Nathan and I correctly navigated ourselves home.So I will never know if all Fatih showed me and told me was true. My mind wants to say no. My heart tells me to believe. In a way, it doesn't matter. That sweet 72 year old man gave me an experience I could not have fathomed or bought. That was the best $8.50 I ever spent. Or maybe I am just a gullible sucker who got hosed. :) Kyle