The Hunted

Trust In God But Tie Up Your Camel  -Arab Proverb

We like to think of ourselves as non-touristy tourists. We often pride ourselves in immersing ourselves (as best we can) into the culture, speaking the language (or trying to), and being street smart enough to "fit in". Though we wear traveler clothing, we often think we will at least pass for tourists from the same region...to be treated a bit more locally. Perhaps we have misjudged ourselves...

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While our Nile Cruise boat was docked on the banks of Luxor, Kapil, Zayan, and myself thought we'd venture out and see the town. I was hoping to buy a galabeya (long shirt) to wear around North Africa and Zayan was keen on buying an ancient Egyptian statue keepsake. Against my suggestion that he stay back and rest (as he was in the midst of a head cold), Kapil insisted that he would join us. My mom asked if we could take a few hundred dollars and exchange them while we were out.

As we exited the boat and walked along the boardwalk, we kept seeing the same touristy, imitation goods in every stall/shop. I suggested that we move out of that area and into a slightly more local scene. Ironically, we had just been debating about dispositions when meeting shopkeepers. Kapil and Zayan were adamant that I should stop smiling and answering people and that even saying "no, shukran (thank you)" was inviting more discussion. My approach, was that kindness and politeness should still be exercised when saying "no". We had just agreed that each of us would try the other's approach for the outing.

We began walking along the main road and were immediately accosted by a man driving a horse carriage. He kept mentioning that he could take us to the market or give us a tour. We declined, mostly because Kapil refuses to ever ride animals unless he’s forced to, and we didn't feel like the horses looked particularly well-treated. Much to our annoyance, he followed alongside us for a while in case we changed our minds.

Just next to us on the sidewalk was a young man who seemed to have observed our conversation. He "helped" us by telling the horse driver, in Arabic, that we were not interested and commented in excellent English, "it is a great day to walk."

We agreed and offered our thanks. He told us that he was going to the "local weekly market" himself. He said that he had seen us around and said he worked on the boat in the kitchen. The crew on our boat was so lovely, that we immediately, said, "Oh! We LOVE Mustafa" who was the head chef and happened to have a very common Arabic name. He introduced himself; his name was Islam. He said that Mustafa had asked him to get fresh saffron and that he would be happy to show us the way to the market. Islam's only request was that we mentioned how kind he was on the boat's comment card.

Islam was so charming and began showing us sites as we walked through Luxor. Kapil and Zayan, the advocates of the "less friendly," or skeptical approach to strangers, felt at ease with Islam. A few minutes into the walk, I started to have some hesitations about the veracity of his working on our boat. I decided to innocuously ask a few questions to test his story, without putting him on the edge-- an approach I have used quite successfully in working with justice-involved youth and adults. The substance of the casual question/answer session is the following:

• Q) Islam, how do you like working on the boat? Who are your best friends there?

A) Oh I love it. The people are so nice and we all get along. I have so many friends there!

• Q) But who is your best friend on the boat?

A) If I had to pick, it would be Mustafa. He taught me everything I know.

• Q) Islam, what is the best item for tonight's dinner (knowing that at breakfast each day, guests selected one of three options to be served at dinner)?

A) Oh Aila, now you are making me shy! I love all of our dishes, but honestly, as I mentioned, today is my day off so I don't know the menu for tonight. Anyway, I work the breakfast shift.

The fact that he kept mentioning Mustafa (after I gave him that name) made me suspicious, but nevertheless, Islam was very charming and he was pointing us to the direction of the "real" local side of town.

Quick stealthy shot (by Kapil) of Islam guiding Aila and Zayan to the spice market.

Meanwhile, the horse carriage driver was still trailing us. Kapil told him in English that we would walk both ways and weren't going to change our minds. Islam then reiterated our sentence in Arabic and sent the horse driver off, but not before the driver, himself, mentioned an Arabic reponse.

I told Kapil to text our parents that we were walking to the weekly local market with "Islam" and that we would be back in about an hour. I also began watching our surroundings and direction very closely. There wasn't a non-awkward way to let Kapil know my thoughts so I relied on his keen sense of direction and awareness and kept walking.

We were lead to a spice market where we were offered some tea. We told the shopkeeper that we were not there to buy anything, but just to accompany Islam. Islam insisted on a cup of tea and left to make it, while the shopkeeper showed us his spice collection. I showed interest in an herbal tea blend since almost all of our family had a head cold and he suggested that we also take some good quality Egyptian saffron back as well.

As Islam returned with tea and the shopkeeper weighed and totaled our bill, he asked for the equivalent of $100 USD. What? We quickly explained that we actually didn't need any of it and that we didn’t cause any awkwardness, but that we didn't have that kind of money. The shopkeeper (irritated) replied that he had already mixed the herbs for the tea but that he could reduce or take out the saffron. At that moment, Kapil was onto the fishiness of this situation and we decided to pay the reduced $50 USD for the herbal tea and some saffron—and really, to get out of there on good terms. Besides, even if we were being ripped off, good saffron was way more expensive in the US.

In the spice shop…

Islam got his saffron and walked out of the store. He apologized and affirmed that he wasn't there to make any money. We said that we were going to look on our own now and thanked him for his time. He kindly said that it was his pleasure to join us and besides he liked practicing his English. He also told us that this wasn't the "best market" for the statue Zayan was looking for and that he could take us to another shop.

Islam continued to tell us that many of the guides receive a percentage of commission from their coordinated shopping stops, which increased the price. He could show us a place that was more reasonable. We followed, but now acutely aware of where we were. He took us through some alleyways and tougher neighborhoods and the sun was starting to set. While it was good to understand the poverty in this tourist town, I was secretly getting concerned about the safety of where we were.

I asked if we could take a quick picture or two of the "real" Luxor (but I also wanted to take a few pictures of where we were in case it would be needed later). Islam was pleased that we were interested in what he was showing us. I used Kapil's phone, as it had already been out and I did not want to open my purse, especially with my mom's money, which I was clearly not going to exchange. Little did I know, Kapil had been secretly snapping photos as well.

We told Islam that it was time to go back and that we should forget the shop. He said, that we were there; it was around the corner. Relieved (but annoyed) to see the store that looked like every other government tourist store, we entered to have a quick look. Surprisingly, the store actually had quite a collection of the figurines that Zayan had been looking for, so we browsed for awhile. We let Islam know that we were fine on our own (we definitely knew the way back now), but he graciously insisted that he would wait for us.

Kapil and the shopkeeper (who likely really was a government employee (meaning no sales commission) because he didn't show much interest in our business) actually hit it off over a carabiner. The shopkeeper liked Kapil's carabiner on his backpack and was clearly very touched when Kapil casually gave it to him! We bought a few items and were ready to leave. I didn't catch this, but Kapil saw the shopkeeper yell at Islam in Arabic on the way out and shake his head.

As we walked back, it was nearly dark on the main road and there were no sidewalks. The increased congestion of speeding cars from the evening rush hour made it hectic—especially (with what felt like) a few near misses with passing cars. Needless to say, we just wanted to get back as soon as possible.

Just as we got near the main boardwalk near our boat, Islam said his goodbye and told us to remember to thank him on the comment card. He also cautioned us against mentioning his generosity to the other boat crew, in case there were repercussions for him at work. And just as he reminded us one more time to write the comment card, he ever-so-quickly muttered another name, “Adam.”

We said our goodbyes and we just knew we had been "had." Zillions of questions entered our heads: What was his real name? Where did he really work? Was the horse carriage driver actually looking out for us? But we took solace in the fact that we had not given him a dime (except for likely commission on our purchases).

Back on the boat, as we processed our adventure with our family, our amazing guide, Muhammad, came and joined us. I started to tell him, "you'll never guess what just happened to us" and he interrupted and said, "let me guess...you met a man who said he was a crew on the boat and was going to the spice market to pick up saffron..." My jaw dropped. Muhammad went on to say that it was really good that Zayan and I were not alone and that there are many stories of women/children tourists being taken on "tours" of the Nile or remote places with a horse carriage and then robbed, extorted, or worse. I then remembered the story of my dearest friend who was "hunted" and mugged in Thailand years ago.

Our parents were mortified by the fact that we were "tourist hunted" and we could tell that their confidence in our traveling savvy was rocked...though they still maintained that together, we make one heck of a team. Kapil's mom so rightfully commented to this effect: Love, trust, and optimism for humanity shouldn't be lost because it is what makes us see and experience the world as we do, but we mustn't forget to keep our wits about us. We are better travelers for this experience and together we've struck a new balance of cautious optimism.