Khan al-Khalili is one of Cairo's main attractions for tourists. Naturally, we had to go.
After minutes of careful deliberation, it was agreed that we (Anna, Jess, and I) should go at night, in attempt to find Khan tourist free and relatively vacant. We had heard the massive market was overflowing with Egyptian spices, perfumes, jewelry, and other gaudy trinkets. All day we listed the wonderful things we would barter down to virtually non-existent prices, imagining authentic Egyptian bags and rings and precious stones that would soon become our most prized possessions.
We climbed into a cab and whisked out of Zamalek, on what is still the most hazardous cab ride I've ever been a part of. Our driver, an ardent football (soccer) fan was listening to the North African Cup, aggressively hammering his steering wheel with every word the commenter uttered. With limited Arabic knowledge, we merely saw an infuriated man exceptionally prone to road rage, shouting (what we assumed were) obscenities at every passerby. With nervous fits of laughter we gripped any visible surface, as there were no seat belts, until we stopped in traffic five cars wide. Khan is located in a part of Cairo we are not familiar with, so as we left the inner-city and our driver's intensity increased, we contemplated how badly we would be injured if we had to jump out of the taxi, seeing as he surely was driving us somewhere to be killed. Shortly after announcing this worry in the backseat, we discovered our humorous mistake; upon our realization, Egypt scored the winning goal and we were able to join the joyous raucous that was shared between taxi cabs abound. The rest of the ride was spent dodging our cab driver's loving stare through the rear view mirror.
We figured Khan would be hard to miss, so we didn't do too much research about where it exactly was located. Unfortunately, we were terribly wrong. We got out and walked down a tiny stretch of meager markets, merchants stepping in our path every spare second in hopes of luring us in. (No merchants were successful; although I have a tendency to lead them into thinking I'm interested, only to scamper off the second they remove their gaze - I must learn to be firm, for this is quite an exhausting trick). Eventually we wandered back to the sidewalk, deciding to meander a little farther in hopes of finding our destination of treasures.
After several wearing treks back-and-forth across the street, we entered into what we were sure was Khan. As planned, we were the only tourists in sight; unfortunately, this resulted in an obscene amount of attention. Our plan had totally failed - not only were we the only obvious tourists, but the market was still packed with Egyptians, resulting in a much more tiring experience than if we had gone during the day. We didn't find anything that was remotely interesting, and could barely discuss our disappointment with each other without being interrupted; "WELCOME TO CAIRO COME INSIDE!" or, "YOU SO BEAUTIFUL, ALL OF YOU!" or, "WHERE ARE YOU FROM? WHERE ARE YOU FROM?!" Needless to say, we lost our spirit and finally gave up, agreeing to go home. Bolting to the nearest way out, I ignored every call, whistle, obscure gesture, and succeeded, for once, in showing my honest disinterest. At one point, an enthusiastic young man dashed up to me, breathlessly motioning to come with him. I didn't have the heart to totally ignore him, and opted to let random noises fall out of my mouth until the man was convinced he couldn't communicate with me. This is easily the best idea I've ever had, and I plan on employing it whenever possible for the rest of my life.
We crammed into the first cab within sight and instantly felt better. Incredibly, Anna rivals my appetite for dessert and we managed to alleviate all gloominess with brownies and chocolate cake, a perfect end to a less than perfect exploit.
