Egypt: In Search of Toilet Paper

The Arab Spring has proven to be a mixed blessing for the average Egyptian on the street. While oppressive regimes require democratic overthrow, the lack of political stability and the intensive media scrutiny has significantly hurt the local economy that relies heavily on Western tourism. The 30 second clip on the 6pm news of angry demonstrators in Tahrir Square does not give an accurate picture of this beautiful, expansive country that is marked more by friendly locals than riotous mobs in tiny quarters of the capital.

The landscape is dramatic and the scale of the country belies the radical changes in the environment that can only be truly appreciated from the air. The Nile is the life source of the Egyptian economy and almost all of the population depend on this precious water as it cuts through the harsh desert towards the Mediterranean. In the Sinai, the rugged, red granite mountains on the right contrast strongly with the gorgeous aqua blue ocean on the left. Dust and dirt cover everything, which combined with the copious smog, make the cities and buildings appear straight out of a degraded '80s documentary.

In many cases, it would seem that the Egyptian economy went through a massive boom and bust, with a vast majority of buildings incomplete. Rubble, exposed iron reinforcement and giant excavations in the road point to stronger financial times or a highly speculative market. One theory is that buildings are never completed due to an excessive tax that is applied once finished. Another theory is that Egyptians construct buildings based on future possibilities with the capacity to easily expand at a moment's notice. However, neither theory explains the sheer number of buildings which should be labelled a construction site rather than a place of residence. Suffice to say that OH&S is not in the public consciousness.

It takes time adjusting to Egyptian life. Initially, the road appears to be a seething, heaving mess where an accident is one wayward glance at a blonde Western girl away. On closer inspection, the rules of the road are simple: fill the gap. Lanes and indicators are useless, whereas a savvy interpretation sees drivers jostling their cars into positions that increase the road efficiency
far beyond the initial design specs. Traffic lights are an infrequent roadside decoration, however the car horn is the most important safety feature on any vehicle: car, truck, minivan, taxi, donkey, horse drawn carriage, camels on the back of a ute, etc.

Crossing the street is akin to an Indiana Jones leap of faith. At first it is a confronting experience, but with necessity, the confidence of simply stepping out into the path of oncoming traffic becomes second nature, knowing that the average local probably has better dexterity behind the wheel with a blaring Arabic soundtrack than most formula one drivers on a wet track at Albert Park. It probably helps that most traffic rarely achieves more than 30 km/hr before yet another unnecessary blast of the horn is emitted.

Shopping is a variable experience. Variable, because prices are as flexible as a sheisha pipe, and depend more on the summation of the prospective buyer by the shopkeeper more than traditional supply-and-demand economic principles. There exists two basic pricing structures: Egyptian prices and Westerner prices. The only way to close the gap is to haggle. The art of the haggle is a time honoured tradition that means that a quick, duck-down-to-the-shops should not be expected. A somewhat reasonable price is 50% below the initial ask and this requires frequent expression of emotion, fake walk-aways, and visible resignation that the final shaking price was more goodwill than inherent product value. Of course, the exchange rate means that the last stages of the haggle invariably mean the difference in loose change than anything significant for the Australian, even if the numbers involved could conceivably be reasonable back home.

A somewhat surprising aspect to Egyptian life is the prevalence of 3G reception and the ubiquitous mobile phone in the hand of the locals. Whether sailing on the Nile, in the sandy desert, cutting sugarcane in the field, or riding a donkey carrying too much produce, every Egyptian carries an old school mobile with the stock standard Nokia ringtone. Very 2004, yet bafflingly more advanced in mobile tech than basic amenities.

Hygiene requires an adjustment to Western, Pine-o-clean standards. Toilet paper is a highly valuable resource and is not stocked in most bathrooms as the traditional way is more "water-based". Public restrooms are purely for the adventurous, and hand sanitizer is a requisite rather than a luxury. Bottled water is for drinking and long bus journeys mean sand/palm-tree stops when nature calls.

On face value, the average Egyptian is super friendly and overly complimentary to the run of the mill tourist; although white skin and blonde hair probably adds to the curiosity factor. Randoms will wave, say hello and welcome you to their country. In the highly competitive bazars, shop keepers prefect the art of the one-liner, with a clever mix of complements, rhymes and humorous attention grabbers. A sure cure for poor self esteem should be for a girl to stroll down a retail section of any Egyptian street.

On the religious front, Egypt is unmistakably Islamic, yet has a clearly secular influence that is evident culturally and commercially. The street-level fashion is indicative of this, with a fusion of traditional dress and Western clothing in a manner that is more akin to Footscray, rather than a radically different culture. Whereas the UAE is exclusively Muslim, Egypt has a small, yet obvious Coptic sector and the politics of the country reveal a desire for church-state separation, although recent events may override this. Of course, the calls to prayer broadcast through the loudspeakers at the top of the minstrels remind the visitor of the religious landscape; and deny sleep-ins.

Next stop: Jordan