Khan El Khallili : Cairo's Great Souk

Article first published as Khan El Khalili in May: Cairo's Great Souk is Open for Business on Blogcritics.

My husband left Egypt to Kenya a few days ago. The day that he left, we went to Khan El Khallili together for several hours.

According to my tourist book on Cairo,

"Khan el-Khalili (Arabic: خان الخليلي‎) is a major souk in the Islamic district of Cairo. The bazaar district is one of Cairo's main attractions for tourists and Egyptians alike."

Well, when Hamadi and I went, it was fun, and romantic. We started our day by getting dropped off at the gate by a taxi. We then sat down at the nearest cafe. I had my favorite drink, lemon with ice. I also had a tasty chicken shawarma. My husband had roasted lamb chops. They were small, so looked like lamb lollipops. Then, we both shared a delicious small salad, or what we call kachumbari in Kenya. Tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, cilantro. There was also some nice tahini in the middle of the plate to dunk the pita bread in.

The waiters were amused by my valiant attempts to speak Arabic, and they laughed and smiled, and for the most part, we understood each other. Then, my husband and I wandered into the true Khan El Khallili. You walks into the narrowest of alleys. Above you are the balconies of building built exactly next to each other, right out of a book by Naguib Mahfouz. On either side is shop after tiny shop, with cloths and wares hanging out of the windows. Every possible good, shirts, embroidery, boxes of mother of pearl, silver earrings, spices, can be found in Khan El Khallili. It is a veritable cornucopia of the best Egypt and the Middle East has to offer, all to be had at the best price you can negotiate.

The tragic part is that the drop in tourism caused by the Revolution means fewer customers. Each vendor was more anxious than the next. Each one was desperate to convince you to sample his or her wares. There were very few customers that day, perhaps a few dozen. I was dizzied and thrilled by the selection. I bought a gorgeous embroidered blue shirt, some stunning silver braid earrings, several spices, and many beautiful boxes. But I became exhausted by the persistence of the vendors. I was relieved I was with my husband. Remember that in a normal year 11 million tourists come through Egypt, and the great majority of them pass through Khan El Khallili. The vendors must really be suffering right now.

According to Frederick Kunkle writing on April 19, in the Washington Post, The drop in tourism after the Revolution has hurt Egypt's economy.

In February, tourism was off 80 percent compared with last year, and it was down 60 percent in March, []. That is a crippling blow for a sector that accounts for one of every seven Egyptian jobs and makes up about 11 percent of the nation's economy.

Egypt is perfectly safe now. There are so many opportunities for people to shop, and view this land of amazing contrasts.  Come see the New Egypt. Save Khan El Khallili.

An Evening at the Souk

Article first published at Blogcritics. Photo of Khan al Kallili bazaar by Leo LaPorte.

Some of everyday politics is to be found in the market. Today was my day off. I went to have a dinner at an expatriate restaurant at the local market with a university colleague. The market, or souk, is the heartbeat of the community. If politics are going smoothly, as they are today, all the shops are open well into the evening. The market bustles. Men outdoors gather around a large screen TV to watch the latest soccer match. Women and children buy groceries and pick through the gorgeous vegetables displayed on the sidewalk. Music plays. Young women pass by in hijab, tight jeans and high heels, modest, yet provocative at the same time. My colleague and I walked to a small stand, and inhale one of the most delicious glasses of lemonade I have ever drunk. "Ishta" I say, with a thumbs up sign."Shukran." Delicious, thanks. The proprietor smiles broadly.

I did not see any tanks on the way to the souk, but inside the souk was a large truck with an open canvas back filled with soldiers in camoflauge. On the whole, I suppose their presence represents security, but in a country that is actually ruled by the Supreme Council of the Armed Forces, their presence also highlights the absence of democracy, and the utter absence of the pro-Mubarak police forces.

I remember the worst days of the Egyptian Revolution, probably February 2nd and 3rd, when I huddled in a Sudanese neighbor's house with my three children. My children loved this tense time, playing with Samira and Hamid's five children, ranging in ages from 12 to 6 months. The parents hunched worriedly around BBC World, trying to determine what was going on in this, our host country. The next day, I moved my children to Kenya, where they remain today, to their grandma and a bit of safety.

A bit over a month ago it was then. A phone call was impossible, and the souk, which today seemed so vibrant, was nearly closed, with only a few bread stores open, and lines stretching around the block for provisions. My thoughts lie with the Libyans who much be experiencing terrible food shortages. At the end of the evening, my taxi driver, Emad Ghoneem, takes me to a neighbouring area called Tagamoo. We pay some money inside of a nondescript looking corner store, and get back into the taxi to wait. The proprieter George brings me the desired contraband, a bottle of white wine. I return to my beautiful apartment, and pour the much anticipated glass of wine.  It is dry, and delicious, but leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste. Like the Egyptian Revolution, it has not yet matured