Village People

Hot sauce guy

Before you start singing the song that probably started when you saw the title of this entry, let me distract you with a few details of my recent walk through our neighborhood.  

My expat friend, Sarah*, called me and asked if I would like to walk with her through the village to meet some of the women.  I asked what time and she said 9 am.  9 am?!  That is pretty early for most Egyptians, but I was certainly game.

We first walked out from our homes and were met by 2 women sitting on a small stoop talking.  We greeted them with the usual kisses (right, left, right, left) and shook their hands.  Sarah introduced me and I tried to answer all the ensuing questions.

From around the corner this teeny, tiny old woman came walking up the road.  She was dressed in all black with just a small opening for her face.  Faouza had no teeth and looked like the apple dolls they sell at Silver Dollar City.  When she saw Sarah, her face lit up into a gigantic gummy smile.  She hadn't seen Sarah for a while so they gave extra kisses.

She shook my hand and gave me a hug and told me, "Welcome to the village!"  We chatted a bit more before bidding them goodbye.  

We walked up the dusty road and were greeted by a number of children shouting, "'ello!" "'ow are you?" "What ees your name?"

I tried to answer them and ask them their names as well.  One boy shouted, "Backsheesh!  Backsheesh!" (Sort of like, "Give me a tip!") I said in Arabic, "Your name is Backsheesh? That is the first time I have heard that!" He smiled and laughed.  I think I gained a friend.

Various vendors come through the village during the day and shout their commercial to all within earshot (which is a long way).  You've got your veggie guy, bread guy, propane guy and hot sauce guy.  Yes, a hot sauce guy that only does hot sauce.  Egyptians take their sauces seriously and eat it with every meal.  I've tried it and it WILL melt your face off.

We stopped at the first dukon (small store) on the street and Sarah greeted the lady owner.  They hugged and kissed.  We were then introduced to her daughters and grandchildren.  She showed us her inventory and told us to come by anytime.  I told her if she began to carry Bebsi Dieet or Coca Light, she would see even more of me.

Past the dukon, there is a walled area that has a long stoop.  Today the stoop became seats for two women and one older gentlemen.  Sarah greeted each one of them and introduced me.  They asked where I was from and thankfully did not begin asking me questions about our government.  (I try to avoid political discussions in settings like this.)  

We continued past the mahkwagee.  This is a man who has an ironing service.  You drop off your clothes and he irons them and puts them on hangars.  Egyptians are always very well-pressed in their dress.  You rarely see anyone wearing anything wrinkled.  He wasn't open yet and I've discovered he runs his hours a lot like the artsy folks in Eureka Springs, AR who had a sign, "When we're here, we're open.  When we're not, we aren't."  

We had almost reached the edge of the village when we came to a large tree with benches underneath.  Three women were seated in its shade.  Sarah greeted them and we were received warmly.  These ladies are kind of like the Neighborhood Watch Program.  Since they are at the entrance of the village they pretty much see and hear everything that happens.

Sarah introduced us, but they already knew who I was and also knew John's name.  Pretty good.  I met LuLu a woman about my age.  Lulu then introduced me to one of her daughters (a recent high school graduate) and her mother-in-law who looked very similar to Faouza.  

Lulu also told us about her other children including Alia who had worked at the Old Cataract Hotel, but had to find other employment due to lack of tourists.  She was now working at a Beauty Saloon (salon for us, but pronounced suh-LOON here.)  Lulu's daughter sitting on the bench piped up and said, "She does henna too! Do you like henna?"  I told her I did and thought it was a very beautiful form of art.  

Lulu said, "You should have it done by my daughter!"

I was now getting in deep water.  Henna lasts a long time.  Emileigh, Aria and I had had henna work done on our arms and legs one time before departing S*dan.  It was beautiful, however, Aria had an allergic reaction and swelled like crazy.  Even 3 years later you can still see faint signs of the design when she's out in the sun.

I smiled and tried to divert the conversation, "I had henna in S*dan.  The henna ladies would sometime come to your house for a party…"

This was the only opening the daughter needed.  "She can come to your house!"  Lulu interrupted and said, "Oh, she can go to the saloon!"

Her daughter gave her a look that said, "Why-would-you-suggest-the-saloon-when-we-would-get-a-chance-to-see-the-inside-of-a-foreigner's-house?"

Lulu finally caught on and said, "She can come any time!"

Of course, I want these ladies to come into my home anyway so I most likely will be hosting a Henna and Tea Party in the very near future.  It's just that in this culture it is most honoring to them for me to visit in their homes first before extending an invitation to mine.  So I'll try to play it by ear.

We talked of other things including their families, our daughters and the state of Egypt.  We concluded our time together.  Sarah had an appointment and the bread man had just arrived.  Sarah walked on, but I asked Lulu's daughter if I could walk with her to buy bread.

She laughed like that was the funniest thing she ever heard.  I went over my question in my head.  No, I had said it correctly.  She just thought it was funny that a foreigner wanted to buy bread.  I was like, "You think this physique comes easy? No, it takes bread, honey."  (If only my Arabic were that good!)

We walked together to the many stares of the other village people who couldn't figure out what we were doing together.  A crowd had formed around the bread cart and everyone simultaneously froze as I approached.  They asked Lulu's daughter who I was and all forms of questions.  She replied and apparently said something very, very funny.  They all laughed very hard.  I, of course, did not capture the nuance of the joke and just smiled.

I told the bread guy that I wanted 5 pieces of bread.  I handed him one Egyptian pound (15 cents) and waited for my change.  Yep.  I got 7.5 cents back.  The government subsidizes the bread prices here so you can buy a lot of bread for very little dough. (bdomp bomp ching).

Everyone at the cart returned to their purchases and I said goodbye to my new friend.  I walked back toward our apartment with my little bag of bread feeling quite happy.  As I reached our starting point, I saw Faouza and the other ladies.  I took out one piece of bread and handed them the rest.  One said, "I can get bread."  I told her, "I know, but I bought too much.  Please take it while it's still warm."

They smiled and accepted the bag.  My new little village.  Wonderful people and so welcoming.  And every time I pass through, I get to do all the greetings again.  It's the cultural thing to do and it's also the right thing to do…to acknowledge people in all stations of life, to greet them and just listen...village people.

You may now return to the melody bouncing around in your head, "It's fun to stay at the Y…M…C…A!"

* Not their real names