After Tokyo, Cairo was a shock. No matter how crowded the train, street or shop, there was a certain minimal elegance to the behaviour of the crowd. If someone had to step on your toes, there would at least be an apologetic shrug. In Cairo, it was a much more dog-eat-dog attitude. An Egyptian will think nothing of stopping in the middle of the street to chat to a friend who is already half blocking all the pedestrian traffic. Foot traffic is often already being made harder by street vendors setting out their goods on the ground. A four-lane road will often be reduced to a single lane due to people parking on the road, usually blocking other cars in. Queuing for a toilet or to be served at a corner store, I would have people step right in front of me as if I had suddenly been rendered invisible. I made the mistake of visiting the largest and most famous market in Cairo, Khan el Khalili, and was almost injured numerous times as large motorbikes rode down tiny lanes as fast as possible. After walking around like that for an hour, I never even came close to starting to buy anything, which seemed to be a common theme. Silence is entirely unknown here, with constant car horns, constant yelling, and constant loud music. At some point, I gave up buying goods from corner stores, as the prices for my goods seemed to be twice or three times what they should be.
This is not to say I didn’t have pleasant moments. A perfume seller on the street gave me excellent directions to my hotel when I first landed. A head-scarved lady with startling blue eyes offered me some confectionery while she waited for her friend buying some costume jewellery from a street vendor. A dark-skinned lady told me I “said no beautifully” when I declined her offer of a henna tattoo before continuing on her way.
Adrian's Got The Moose 