Stu's visit to Egypt.
10/03/01
Me: "Hallo!" (Hello! I'm a
loud, obnoxious American!)
Waiter: "Hallo." (Hello. Why did I work a
double today?)
Me: "Izmee Stu!" (My name is Stu.)
Waiter: "Es Stu?" (Your name is Stu?)
Me: "La, la, Stu." (No, no Stu only)
Waiter: "Es Stu." (You are Stu.)
Me: "No, just, Stu." (No, just, Stu.)
Waiter: "Aiwa. Es Stu."
(Yes. You are Stu.)
Me: "Stu. No Es. Just Stu."
(S-T-U. No Es!)
Waiter: "Izmee Tarek, Es Stu." (I point at
me. My name is Tarek. I point
at you. You are Stu.)
Me: "Hallo, Tarek. Me Stu only. No Es
in front." (Are you slow?)
Waiter: "Aiwa, Es Stu, okay?" (Yes, I got
it. You are Stu. Now what do you
want?)
Me: "Okay, you win. Estu it is."
And that is how I got my new
nickname. I like it. It has sort of an
international ring to it. It sounds good on the phone,
too. It sounds like
I have an accent.
I seem to have a lot of those
conversations with waiters. Pointing at
the menu is really the only way to guarantee that they won't
screw up your
order because you pronounced something wrong. They'll
still screw it up, but
it won't be because of your language skills.
Despite the lack of record
keeping on the part of waiters, their service is
overwhelming. They are
always nearby and they apologize every time they come to the
table. It's
like it is an ancient social taboo to interrupt someone
while they are
eating. This puts a terrible strain on the waiter I
suppose. This is
probably why they never bring the check. It's
probably considered rude
because it's like asking a guest to leave.
10/03/01
"Hallo?"
"Hello, do you have rooms available for this
Friday?"
"Hallo?"
"Yes, do you have rooms this Friday?"
"Hallo? You want a room?"
"Yes. I want room. Friday."
"Okay. When you want room?"
"Well, let's start with this Friday."
"La, La, very busy. No rooms."
"Thanks, goodbye."
"Hallo?"
"No, goodbye. I'm hanging up now."
"You look for room. We have rooms."
"You have rooms? This Friday?"
"Friday? Hmmm. Yes, we have room."
"Friday? Okay, I'd like to reserve
it."
"Reserve? Yes, okay, name please."
"My name is Stu McDonald."
"When to arrive Mr. Stu?"
"Friday. This Friday."
"Friday? No, no, so sorry, no rooms
Friday. Very busy."
And so it goes. Making
hotel reservations over the phone in Egypt
should be an Olympic event. The conversations I had
with hotel owners in
Alexandria were marathon sessions. After the third
one I was laughing so
hard I had to hang up. Of course, I still don't
have a place to stay, but that's how traveling happens here.
I've
been assured by returning teachers
that I will find something when I arrive.
The phone system in Egypt has a
few quirks. Most residential lines
allow you to call local exchanges only. Cell phone
numbers here carry a
prefix of zero and are not included as local
exchanges. Numbers outside of
Cairo carry a prefix of 03, 04, etc and are also not local
exchanges. 800
numbers? Same thing. So, a typical apartment
phone can only call other
apartments. You can't call a cell phone, fax
machine, Alexandria, or the US.
You must purchase a prepaid calling card at
clandestine grocery store to do
these things. I haven't found one yet but
someone described to me how to get
to one in Zamalak.
I did buy an answering machine
from Radio Shack of all places. I don't
want to miss a single important call. As it turns
out I wasn't missing any
even without a machine. There were no messages for
the first three days.
Eventually I discovered that the phone jack it was plugged
into was loose and
needs an occasional wiggle so that it will get a dial
tone.
I can't wait to pay the
phone bill. I hear it's paid every six
months.
You have to go to an office somewhere during working
hours to retrieve it
and pay in cash. The best part is that you don't
get a bill delivered. You
just "know" when it needs to be paid. I
have no idea how that's going to
happen. I hope we don't get disconnected
because we forgot to pay a bill we
never knew about in the first place. I don't
think I could ever figure out
how to use a pay phone here.